Norah was at my feet, wiping off my
shoes with her queer little brown frock.

"It's a new friend of mine," gasped
I, beginning to see that I must lose her,
and hoping the lump in my throat
wouldn't get any bigger than it was.

"What is her name?" asked mother.
I had no time to answer. The girl did
that.

"I'm Norah Madigan," she said.
Her tone was respectful, and, maybe,
sad. At any rate, it had a curious
sound.

"Norah Mad-i-gan?" asked mother
doubtfully, stringing out the word.

"Yessum," said a low voice. "Good-
bye, mum."

"Oh, Norah!" cried I, a strange pain
stabbing my heart. "Come to see
me --"

But my mother's voice broke in, firm
and kind.