I saw her go in and out of the little
red-tiled cottages and down the narrow back lanes of the village; I
heard her voice in a sweet, low song by the bed of a dying child, or
pouring forth floods of music in the great new hall of the factory town
near by. But I could not see, though he tried to show me, the stately
gracious lady receiving the country folk in her home. He did not linger
over that scene, but went back again to the gate-cottage where she had
taken him one day to see Billy Breen's mother.
'I found the old woman knew all about me,' he said, simply enough; 'but
there were many things about Billy she had never heard, and I was glad
to put her right on some points, though Mrs. Mavor would not hear it.'
He sat silent for a little, looking into the coals; then went on in a
soft, quiet voice--
'It brought back the mountains and the old days to hear again Billy's
tones in his mother's voice, and to see her sitting there in the very
dress she wore the night of the League, you remember--some soft stuff
with black lace about it--and to hear her sing as she did for Billy--ah!
ah!' His voice unexpectedly broke, but in a moment he was master of
himself and begged me to forgive his weakness.
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