"Are you happy?"
"Quite happy, dearie--quite happy, though I don't deny as my pipe wants filling."
Willing to alleviate her discomfort in some small degree, Dan gave her a fill of tobacco, and she was soon adding more smoke to the already foggy atmosphere. When she spoke her voice sounded as from a cloud, for Dan could not even catch a glimpse of her face, so thickly rolled the blinding smoke between them.
"That's better, dearie--much better," piped the voice from the cloud. "Wha-a! there ain't nothing like terbaccer for comfort--unless," added she artfully, "it's summat to warm the inside."
Interpreting this hint in its right sense, Dan passed along his flask, and heard her smacking her withered lips over the whisky. He wished to soften her heart before asking questions; and having, as he thought, done so by these gifts, proceeded to business. Dan was not without diplomacy, but it proved worthless in this instance.
"I thought Tim would be back to-night," said he, replacing the flask in his pocket.
"Did ye, now?" whined Mother Jericho, crossly. "Well, he ain't. He's with the Hernes for a day, dearie. When he comes back I'll tell him ye asked for him."
"When will he come back?"
"To-morrow, or the next day, young man. Why d'ye want to see him?"
"Just for companionship. It's lonely up at the dell."