24
Kirry: The both of you is obstinate terrible, an’ th’ oul woman is detarmined too. I don’t know indeed what makes you both take such a notion, with the name on the list an’ the story toul in the papers an’ all.
Lizzie: Well, Kirry, look at the good boy Jem always was to his mother–never leaving her an’ hour without tellin’ her where he was going, that she would not be onaisy–an’ if anything had come on him, wouldn’t he have come back for to tell her?
Kirry: Well, Lizzie, you may be right. They’re sayin’ there's never a day passes but she’s goin’ wanderin’ along the roads at the beginning of the night to see will she meet him.
Lizzie: She do so. Every night, wet or dry, an’ I’m goin’ after her times to meet her an’ bring her home, for she is not noticin how the time passes, an’ if she has been out only ten minutes you can easy satisfy her that the night is near over, an’ persuade her to come back an’ put the kettle on for him. An’ then we’re persuadin’ her to take a lil lie down, an’ that way we’re gettin’ her to sleep through the night.
A low knock heard.
Kirry: That’ll be her now it’s like.
Lizzie goes out and returns with Mrs. Fayle, who puts her hand over her eyes, dazed with the light.
Lizzie: Come in, Mrs. Fayle. You’ll remember Kirry Cregeen that used to be livin’ down here?
Mrs. Fayle gives a little old-fashioned curtsey, with her white handkerchief folded in her hand.
Mrs. F.: Yes, sure, an’ how are you keepin’ Miss Cregeen?
Kirry: Nicely, thank you, Mrs. Fayle, an’ how’s yourself this long time?
Mrs. F.: Well enough, well enough, thank you, an’ I’m not mindin’ the coul an’ I’m not mindin’ the heat, for when we’re wonderin’ in the mornin’–will he come this everin’–an’ in th’ everin’–will he come in th’ mornin’–the days
