"We'll go in the house, fer it's not a very clean place fer ye to be wi' all yer fine clothes."
"I'd rather we just sit down on those two chairs by the porch and have a good talk," he suggested. They seated themselves in the shade, for the morning sun was very warm, and young John lighted a cigar.
"Have ye been doin' well since ye left?" Nancy inquired.
"Aye, Mistress McVeigh. Corney helped me, you know. I went to work in his office the very day of my arrival in Chicago, and, thanks to your advice, I never allowed my old habits to interfere with my progress."
"Ye didn't think I doubted yer ability to do that?" she asked, reproachfully. Then, with a twinkle of humor in her eyes, she added, "It was yer love fer a certain young lady that kep' ye at it."
"Maybe," he assented, meditatively.
"An' I suppose Corney has a grand place, wi' a desk and books as thick as a family Bible?"
Young John laughed. "His office is as big as your house. He has twenty desks and a clerk for each one, and a private room, all glass, and leather-bound furnishings. I tell you, Mrs. McVeigh, your son has developed a wonderful business, and you will live to see him a rich man, too," he remarked, enthusiastically.
"Well, d'ye hear that now, the brains o' him! I always knew it!" Nancy ejaculated, with tears of pride glistening for a moment in her eyes. "It's been in me mind these ten years to go there an' see him. D'ye think he'll likely be Mayor o' Chicago?" she asked, wistfully.
Young John quibbled with an easy conscience. "His chances are as good as the best of them," he said. "But tell me about yourself, Nancy. How have you been keeping? And have you had any more young men to reform since I left?" he asked, suddenly changing the subject.