May the mercy of God rest upon her! This money is for the poor Daltons an' her; we can do without it--an', mother dear, my hair will grow again.

Oh! father dear, think of it--lyin' in a could shed by the road-side, an' no one to help or assist her--to hand her a drink--to ease her on her hard bed--bed!--no on the cold earth I suppose! Oh! think if I was in that desolate state.

May God support me, but she's the first I'll see; an' while I have life an' strength, she musn't want attendance; an' thank God her shed's on my way to the Daltons!" She then hastily sent her brother into Ballynafail for such comforts as she deemed necessary for both parties; and in the mean time, putting a bonnet over her clean nightcap, she proceeded to the shed in which Sarah M'Gowan lay.
On looking at it ere she entered, she could not help shuddering.

It was such a place as the poorest pauper in the poorest cabin would not willingly place an animal in for shelter.

It simply consisted of a few sticks laid up against the side of a ditch; over these sticks were thrown a few scraws--that is, the sward of the earth cut thin; in the inside was the remnant of some loose straw, the greater part having been taken away either for bedding or firing.
When Mave entered, she started at the singular appearance of Sarah.