Ill-used you were, my poor Mrs. Dermody--and a shame!
and you a stranger! But them were Connaught people. I ask your
pardon--finish your story."
"It is finished, ma'am. They were ruined, and all sold; and I could not
stay with my children to be a burthen. I wrote to husband, and he wrote
me word to make my way to Dublin, if I could, to a cousin of his in
Pill-lane--here's the direction--and that if he can get leave from his
colonel, who is a good gentleman, he will be over to settle me
somewhere, to get my bread honest in a little shop, or some way. I am
used to work and hardship; so I don't mind. Brian was very koind in
his letter, and sent me all he had--a pound, ma'am--and I set out on my
journey on foot, with the three children. The people on the road were
very koind and hospitable indeed; I have nothing to say against the
Irish for that; they are more hospitabler a deal than in England, though
not always so honest. Stranger as I was, I got on very well till I came
to the little village here hard by, where my poor boy that is gone first
fell sick of the measles. His sickness, and the 'pot'ecary' stuff and
all, and the lodging and living ran me very low. But I paid all, every
farthing; and let none know how poor I was, for I was ashamed, you know,
ma'am, or I am sure they would have helped me, for they are a koind
people, I will say that for them, and ought so to do, I am sure.
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