"It's been a God's blessin', the knowin' o' ye an' the kiddies," Nancy assured her.
This simple-minded old body had made a deep inroad into the city mother's affections, and her joy at the early prospect of meeting her husband was tempered with a sincere sadness at the parting which it would entail.
The evening was growing quickly into darkness as they sped along, and an unusual bustle amongst the other passengers had commenced. Now that the hugeness of the outlying districts of Chicago were being unfolded to Nancy with the long lines of lighted street, and starry streaks of electric cars flashing by like meteors in a southern sky, she became aware of a keen sense of fear. It was all so different from anything in her past experience. It seemed as if she had broken ties with everything familiar except the sweet face of her companion and the two sleeping children. The roar of the city had now enveloped the train, and presently it began to slacken speed, as it had done a score of times before in the last hour. The conductor came into the car, calling out, "Chicago!" and Nancy's heart beat so that it almost choked her. The bright glare of the station came down into their window from the roofs of adjacent trains, and then, before she rightly understood what was happening, she was out on to the platform with her arms full of her own and Mrs. Morris' bundles. A short man detached himself from a crowd that waited without the gates far in front, and came dashing towards them.
"It is my husband," Mrs. Morris whispered, breathlessly. Next moment she was locked in his arms. Nancy gazed furtively about, peering at the faces, and hoping that one might be her son. After a long scrutiny, she turned a despairing, helpless face to her late travelling companion. Mrs. Morris understood, and came to her rescue quickly.
"You are a stranger in this big city, so you had better come home with us for to-night," she suggested.
"I wrote him to be waitin' fer me, but he must have forgotten," Nancy returned, brokenly.
"Yes, you must come, Mrs.—" Mr. Morris began, then hesitated.
"Mrs. McVeigh, from the Monk Road," his wife told him, with a happy smile.
"The Monk Road, where is that, pray?" Mr. Morris asked, in puzzled tones.
"D'ye not know that?" Nancy exclaimed, incredulously.