Malone grumbled a reply, and some of the others took sides with him, and their demands were aggressively loud.
"I tell ye, it's no more liquor'll be served in this bar to-night," Nancy again declared, and stepping from behind, she began a steady movement towards the door. The men shot a few irresolute glances at Will Devitt, but his face gave no encouragement to disobey, and gradually they dispersed, all but Malone, who had a wish to be troublesome. His mutiny was short-lived, however, for Nancy's fingers suddenly clutched his collar, and she precipitated him on to the verandah, with scarce an apparent effort.
"I'm not well the night, Will, and the noise hurts my head," she explained to Will Devitt, as she passed into her sitting-room.
A crunching of wheels sounded from the roadway, and presently a rig came to a stop in the open sheds. Boisterous talking ensued, and then four young men came into the light of the hallway. They were all well dressed, and of a different class to the usual run of custom.
"Ho, Mistress McVeigh, a room please, and a few bottles of the best in your house." Almost simultaneously Nancy appeared, and a tolerant smile again hovered in the corners of her mouth.
"Faith, an' are ye back again, John Keene?" she asked.
"I am, most assuredly; who could pass your welcome doorway without dropping in?" young John answered, laughing.
"It's high time ye quit yer loose ways," Nancy commenced, trying to frown, but her voice had none of the harshness of her previous ill-humor.
"No preaching, now, Mistress McVeigh," young John interposed, as he flung his arm affectionately across her shoulders.
"Ye're always takin' advantage of a poor ould woman," Nancy retorted, good-naturedly, as she led the way upstairs to the parlor, where Jennie had already placed a lamp.