“Is your husband away?” ventured Chub sympathetically.
“He died a year ago last April.”
“Oh!” murmured Chub. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t know—”
“Course you didn’t. I ain’t never had the sign changed yet. Don’t know as I ever will. If business don’t pick up pretty soon I guess I’ll have to close up. Uriah used to do pretty well here when he was alive, but there’s a new store opened down to Washington Hills and folks mostly goes there to buy their things. Is that the buggy?”
“No,” Chub reported. “It hasn’t come yet.”
She looked again at the clock and heaved an audible sigh of relief.
“Well, everything’s all ready when it does come,” she said. “I suppose you young folks travel a good deal on the trains, but I never have, and I’m always pretty nigh scared to death at the thought of it. There’s always so many accidents in the papers.”
“Have you far to go?” asked Harry. The purchases were all ready and paid for by this time, but neither Harry nor Chub seemed in any hurry to depart.
“’Bout seventy miles it is. I have to take the train to Jones Point and then the ferry across to Peekskill. I guess I’ll find a carriage waiting for me at the other side. Yes, it’s a good deal of a journey. When Millie was first married it did seem like she was just going right out of the world. But she’s been to see me plenty of times since and I’ve been down to Myersville twice. Millie was visiting me only a little while ago; must be two weeks since she left. Maybe the trip was too much for her. She ain’t as strong as she used to be, and there’s a lot of work about a farm. I guess James is a real good husband to her, but he don’t seem to realize what a sight of work she has to do. Men are like that—mostly. I do wonder why that trifling boy don’t come back?”
She hurried to the front door, opened it, and looked anxiously out.