Biddy bustled, intent on hospitality. She propped Nora up with
pillows, pulled a great rug over her shoulders, and heaped on more
and more blankets, which she pulled expeditiously from under the
bed. "They always stay here in the summer," said Biddy. "That's to
keep them aired; and now they're coming in very handy. You have got
four doubled on you now; that makes eight. I should think you'd soon
be warm enough."

"I expect I shall soon be too hot," said Nora; "but this is very
nice."

She sipped the potheen, ate a little bacon and cold potatoes, and
presently declared herself well again.

"Oh, I am perfectly all right!" she said; "it was coming home in the
boat in my wet things. I wish I had taken a pair of sculls again;
then I wouldn't even have been cold."

"Now you'll tell me," said Biddy, who sat on the edge of the bed
munching great chunks of bacon and eating her cold potatoes with
extreme relish. "Oh! it's hungry I am; but I want to hear all about
the lady Banshee. Did she come? Did you see her, Nora?"

"No, she didn't come," said Nora very shortly.

"Didn't come? But they say she never fails when the moon is at the
full. She rises up out of that pool--the bottomless pool it is
called--and she floats over the water and waves her hand. It's awful
to see her if you don't belong to her; but to those who belong to
her she is tender and sweet, like a mother, they say; and her breath