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When the door opened, they caught bits of conversation, Granny’s brogue growing thicker and thicker in her excitement, and Mrs. Dore relapsing, under its influence, into old-country speech. At such times, Maida noticed that Billy’s eyes always “skrinkled up.” They were just putting the finishing touches to the tree when the window darkened suddenly. Maida looked up in surprise.
Maida saw Billy’s eyes snap and sparkle at the word Annie. She wondered what—Could it be possible that—She began to tremble. “And so you’d choose your daughter, Granny?” Billy questioned. “Choose my daughter. Av coorse Oi wud!” Granny stopped to stare in astonishment at Billy. “Oh, Misther Billy, if you cud only foind her!” She gazed imploringly at him.
“Oh, Billy, how glad I am to see you,” Maida said. “It’s been the lonesomest day.” “Sure, the sight av ye’s grand for sore eyes,” said Granny. Maida had noticed that Billy’s appearance always made the greatest difference in everything. Before he came, the noise of the wind howling about the store made Maida sad. Now it seemed the jolliest of sounds.
First, Mrs. Murdock called, at Billy’s request, at his rooms on Mount Vernon Street. Granny and Maida were there to meet her. Mrs. Murdock was a tall, thin, erect old lady. Her bright black eyes were piercing enough, but it seemed to Maida that the round-glassed spectacles, through which she examined them all, were even more so.
He continued to smile as he opened the boxes. It did not occur to Maida to ask them what they were going to do upstairs. It did not occur to her even to go up there. From time to time, she heard Granny and Billy laughing. “One of Billy’s jokes,” she said to herself. Once she thought she heard the chirp of a bird, but she would not leave her work to find out what it was.
But I will not here relate the interesting story of “Billy’s” previous life or of his adventures in reaching his present proud position. It is sufficient to say that, for the time at least, he had become in the eyes of his people a member of a foreign community.
For a moment Maida was afraid Granny was going to faint, for she dropped back into her chair and her eyes filled with tears. But at Billy’s last words the old fire came back to her eyes, the color to her cheeks. “Oi want to see her at wance,” she said with spirit.
The butt of the school, he was accustomed to the jeers of his companions, but such kindness, and from Fanny, too, was unexpected. He, however, drew from his desk his old slate and arithmetic and he and Fanny were soon deep in the mysteries of compound fractions. A half hour passed away and at the end of that time Billy’s sums were done.
Billy continued to smile at her, his eyes all “skrinkled up.” Granny jumped to her feet. She seized Billy’s arm. “Oh, Misther Billy, you have found her,” she quavered. Billy nodded. “I’ve found her, Granny! I told you I would and I have. Now don’t get excited. She’s all right and you’re all right and everything’s all right. She’ll be here just as soon as you’re ready to see her.”
But before he could answer, she added in a condescending tone, “Do you know how to read, little boy?” Billy’s face twitched suddenly and his eyes “skrinkled up.” Maida saw with a mischievous delight that he, in his turn, was trying to keep the laughter back. “Yes, mum,” he said, making his face quite serious again. “My teacher says I’m the best reader in the room.”
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