By the broken heart she died of, you'll get a double tug for that," and he was about to drag him on in a state of great violence, when Mave again placed her hand upon, his arm, and said-- "I am sure, Tom, you are not ungrateful; I am sure you would not forget a kind act done to poor Peggy, that's gone." "Peggy!" he replied, "what's about her?
gone!--Peggy gone!--is she gone ?" "She is gone," replied Mave, "but not lost; an' it is most likely that she is now looking down with displeasure at your conduct and intentions towards this poor man; but listen." "Are you goin' to spake about Peggy, though ?" "I am, and listen.

Do you remember one evenin' in the early part of this summer, it was of a Sunday, there was a crowd about old Brian Murtagh's house, and the report of Peggy's shame had gone abroad and couldn't be kept from people's eyes any longer.

She was turned out of her father's house--she was beaten by her brother who swore that he would take the life of the first person, whether man or woman, young or ould, that would give her one hour's shelter.

She was turned out, poor, young, misled and mistaken crature, and no one would resave her, for no one durst.

There was a young girl then passin' through the village, on her way home, much about Peggy's own age, but barring in one respect, neither so good nor so handsome.