“Well,” she said, “what's up? What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to lend me all the money you have,” said Nora.
“All the money I have—good gracious!”
“Oh, Jehoshaphat! be quick about it,” said Molly. “We cannot stand here talking; we want to catch the very next train to town.”
“But why should I lend you all the money I have?”
“Oh, I'll tell her, Nora; don't you speak,” said Molly. “Nora's father has been awfully hurt; he was shot at from behind a hedge by some scoundrel in Ireland. A telegram came to-day about him to mother, and mother won't take Nora to Ireland unless her father is in danger, and Nora is determined to go.”
“I guess I'd about do the same,” said Stephanotie, nodding her head. “If poppa was shot at from behind a hedge, I guess there's nothing would keep me away from him. But is it for that you want the money?”
“Yes,” said Nora, plunging her hands into the depths of her black bag; “there's only eight shillings and five-pence here, and I can't get to Ireland with that.”
“Haul out the spoil,” said Molly; “make no bones about it. I'm going with Nora, because the child isn't fit to travel alone.”
“You coming with me?” said Nora. “I didn't know that.”