The old woman laid her hand on Molly’s shoulder.
“Ye’ll get on, acushla,” she said gently. “I want to go back to the ould country, and to what frinds is left me there. You’ll get on, you and Frankie, the both o’ ye. Where is the bye?”
“He’s in the kitchen, eating his lunch. But, granny—”
“Lave him come here,” said she, “so I can have a word with him.”
When Molly had gone, she turned again to the doctor.
“Studyin’ music, she was, and goin’ to be one o’ thim—thim that gives concerts an’ all,” she told him; “but I couldn’t go on with it. Frankie’s a bye, and it’s a bye has to have the chance.”
“You may be sure that if there’s anything I can do for her,” said Dr. Joe, “I will.”
“Well, there might be something,” said Katie judicially. Then Dr. Joe was astounded to see a grin on the old woman’s face—not a smile, but a broad grin. “Doctor dear,” she continued, “didn’t I pick ye out, the day I saw ye in the clinic, an’ me there with Mrs. O’Day? Didn’t I know if ye once set eyes on the two o’ thim—Frankie and Molly—ye’d be a frind to thim? I’m an ould woman. I cannot do much more for thim. I wint off to Mrs. O’Day’s last night, the way ye’d get better acquainted with thim. Sure, ye’re not angry with me, doctor dear?”
He was not.
On Sunday morning Mrs. Bennett telephoned to Dr. Joe, to remind him that he had promised to come to dinner that night. She knew by his tone that he had forgotten all about it.