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The puckers in the thin face were so irresistibly comical that Lawrence found it hard to preserve his own gravity: however, he contrived to compose his features, and to say, with a touch of severity "I can tell why you wouldn't have liked me to see you; it was because you knew you were doing wrong." Wikkey's face expressed no comprehension.
Nor was he often disappointed, for Lawrence, having recently obtained employment in a certain government office, and Wikkey's crossing happening to lie on the shortest way from his own abode to the scene of his daily labor, he seldom varied his route, and truth to say, the strange little figure, always watching so eagerly for his appearance, began to have an attraction for him.
But bless you; he weren't blind no more nor you are: he lodged at Skimmidge's for a bit, and I saw him a reading of the paper in his room; he kicked me when he saw as I'd twigged him;" and Wikkey's laugh broke out at the recollection. Poor child, his whole knowledge of sacred things seemed to be derived from "Holiest things profaned and cursed."
Wilkins! might that not account for Wikkey's odd name? Wilkins, Wilky, Wikkey; it did not seem unlikely. That evening, Reginald, entering his cousin's sitting-room, found Lawrence leaning back in his arm-chair on one side of the fire, and on the other his strange little guest lying propped up on the sofa, which had been drawn up within reach of the glow.
Lawrence said again, looking at the thin skeleton frame, sadly visible through the tattered clothing. "Poor little chap! it's sharp weather for such a mite as you. There! get something to warm you." And feeling in his pocket he drew out half-a-crown, which he slipped into Wikkey's hand, and then turned and walked away.
Poor lad, he could not know that Lawrence had been suddenly summoned to the country, and had arranged for a substitute to take his duty for a fortnight; and the terrible thought haunted the child that the big chap had changed his route, perhaps even out of dislike to his Wikkey's attentions, and he should never see his face again.
I dunno why;" and a look of real perplexity came into Wikkey's face as the problem presented itself to his mind. "Did you often cheat Jim?" "Scores o' times," answered the boy composedly. "We'd play pitch-and-toss, and then I'd palm a ha' penny, and Jim he'd never twig."
He wondered what the boy meant by it, and at first, naturally connected the idea of coppers with Wikkey's devotion; but he soon came to see that it went deeper than that, for with a curious instinct of delicacy which the lad would probably have been quite unable to explain to himself, he would sometimes hang back as Lawrence reached the pavement, and nod his funny "Good night, guvner," from midway on his crossing, in a way that precluded any suspicion of mercenary motives.
Wikkey's eyes dilated as he gazed into the nest, and, after some persuasion, took one of the smooth eggs into his hand; and from that moment he could not endure it out of his sight, but had it placed morning and evening beside his sofa or bed, near his other treasure, the Picture of the King, on the other side of which stood the primrose, planted in one of Mrs. Evans' tea-cups.
As the day began to wane, Reginald entering, saw that the end was near, and knelt to say the last prayers; as he finished the pale March sun, struggling through the clouds, sent a shaft of soft light into the room and touched Wikkey's closed eyes.
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