Part 8 (1/2)
”I'm so glad to hear you say it,” she burst out, and then she added, seriously, ”Can you afford it?”
”Ye see,” Nancy explained, ”I've had a letter from my son Corney, an'
he says he is goin' to make me a steady allowance. Anyhow, I'm tired o' the noise o' drunken men and the accusin' glances o' the good folk that pa.s.ses. I've decided that it's not a fittin' occupation fer the mother o' the future mayor o' Chicago to be sellin' the stuff. Others want the license, an' they can have it. I used to like the servin' o'
the public, but somehow me mind has been changed o' late,” she sighed.
When young John Keene and Miss Mary Trevor were made a happy unit the next week, Nancy was there with a new silk dress, which she and Katie Duncan had worked long into the previous nights to finish. Her sweet old face was radiant with smiles, and when it was all over, and she had a chance to speak alone to Sophia Piper, she whispered:
”I'm celebratin' doubly, ye see, miss; I've just sold me stock o'
spirits to the summer hotel people and had a big sign put over the bar door marked 'Privit.'”
”G.o.d bless you, Nancy McVeigh,” Sophia Piper whispered back.
CHAPTER VII.
_THE STRENGTH OF TEN._
It was the sudden termination of the jingling of sleigh-bells that caused Nancy McVeigh to look curiously from her window. People seldom stopped before the old tavern since the transfer of the license to the summer hotel back on the lake sh.o.r.e. At one time it was an odd thing for anyone to pa.s.s without dropping in, if only for a chat or an excuse to water his horses at the pump trough. Nancy sighed when she remembered it, for it had brought much gossip and change into her daily existence. When a chance visitor did intrude upon her quietude, his welcome was a.s.sured. Also she did much of her knitting by the front window, so that she could catch glimpses of her old customers, even if she could not speak to them.
On this wintry day in the early January, it was Dr. Dodona, from town, who tied his horse to a verandah post and rapped briskly at her door.
”It's a real pleasure to see ye, doctor,” Nancy exclaimed, as she gave him admittance. ”Ye must be cold. I'll just give ye me best chair by the fire, an' ye can smoke a pipe while ye're tellin' yer errand.”
”You're very kind, Mistress McVeigh. People like yourself make a doctor's work less arduous,” the doctor answered, heartily.
”It's good of ye to say so, doctor, fer it's little demand fer service ye get out o' me an' mine.”
”I'm on my return from James Piper's, down the road. His two children are ill with the cold, and I am afraid something more serious may be expected. Miss Sophia has them well in hand, and I have left a course of treatment, but I'm not at all satisfied.”
”Did ye recommend goose grease and turpentine? The winter Jennie had a bad throat I used them in plenty, an' it's what saved her,” Nancy remarked, sagaciously.
”Well, not exactly those remedies, but they are very good,” the doctor admitted, laughing. ”Miss Sophia bade me tell you about the children, as you were expecting her to call some day this week,” he continued.
Nancy nodded her head understandingly. ”An' what d'ye expect will develop from their colds?”
”You needn't be frightened, Mistress McVeigh, as your children are all grown up. The boy Willie has a very weak throat, and it was terribly inflamed to-day. I am quite worried about it.”
”It's bad news ye're bringing to-day, doctor, but niver expect trouble.
Maybe they'll change fer the better before mornin'. Ye'll have some tea?” she asked suddenly.
”It's putting you to a lot of trouble,” the doctor said, reluctantly, but Nancy was gone before he had finished his sentence.
When the doctor was ready to depart, she asked, anxiously, ”Ye'll let me know how they are tomorrow?”
”Most a.s.suredly,” the doctor called from the verandah.
Two or three days followed, and each brought Dr. Dodona to Nancy's door with a brief message as to the condition of his patients. His visits were very short, however, but he remained longer at the Piper household, and Nancy missed the smile from his face. She discussed the trend of affairs with Katie Duncan, who was her only confidant now that Will Devitt had gone out West because Nancy McVeigh's bar no longer needed his services, and she was somewhat pessimistic in her remarks.
A week went over, and they only saw Dr. Dodona as his big sorrel mare drew his cutter over the Monk Road in a whirl of snow. Then one day he pa.s.sed, accompanied by James Piper, and Nancy could endure the suspense no longer.