When Bert got home at night, she usually had a request to make of
him. Would he just LOOK at Junior? No, he was all RIGHT, only he
had hardly wanted his three o'clock nursing, and he was sleeping
so HARD--
And at this point, if she was tired--and she was always tired!--
Nancy would break into tears. "Bert--hadn't we better ask Colver
to come and see him?" she would stammer, eagerly.
Ten minutes later she would be laughing, as she served Bert his
dinner. Of course he was all right, only, being alone with him all
day, she got to worrying. And she was tired.
Poor Nancy, she was not to know rest or leisure for many years to
come. She was clever, and as resolutely as she had solved their
first, simple problem, she set about solving this new one. They
had forty dollars a week with which to manage now, but the extra
money seemed only a special dispensation to provide for the
growing demands of Junior.
Junior needed a coach, a crib, new shirts--"he is getting immense,
the darling!" was Nancy's one rapturous comment, when four of
these were bought at sixty cents each. In November he needed two
quarts of milk daily, and what his mother called "an ouncer" to
take the top-milk safely from the bottle, and a small ice box for
the carefully prepared bottles, and the bottles themselves.
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