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Updated: June 18, 2025
For you, my snow-bank youngster!" The genial doctor entered the room just in time to witness the little scene between Miss Armacost and her protégé; and knowing both parties fairly well, he judged that the best way out of a difficulty was to get rid of the difficulty. Which he did in the manner above.
In his efforts he forgot to be so lonely; and it was a really bright-faced little fellow who presented himself in the breakfast-room, where the house mistress sat waiting, and who addressed her very respectfully: "Good-morning, Miss Armacost. Am I late? I guess I fooled 'round some. I I ain't got used to things yet." "Good-morning, my child. Did you rest well?" "Prime.
Miss Armacost had drawn her slight figure to its utmost height and stood regarding her servant with eyes that fairly blazed her indignation. "Lobster salad and boiled custard! Not to include the ice-cream, even. A deadly combination; and you may have the satisfaction, if you enjoy it, of knowing that your thoughtless indulgence of his appetite will probably cost him his life. You may go.
But there was something very queer going on here last night; and it kept me awake, and I'm all upset this morning." Even to herself it seemed strange that Miss Armacost should turn to this stranger child for sympathy, when she would not allow herself to do so toward any of the servants who had known her so long. "What was it, Miss Lucy? P'raps I can find out what it was. I'd like to if I could.
Hurrah!" he cried, entering into the spirit of the thing as if he were a boy himself. "My dear Miss Armacost, you couldn't do anything that would give so much pleasure. Think what such a treat means in this city! and fancy the sparkling eyes of the little chaps! What can I do to help?" "Plenty of things, if you have leisure and inclination."
Having made her choice, Miss Armacost closed and locked the trunk, turned off the light, and descended to her own room. There she carefully brushed and arranged the fantastic costume and made herself ready for bed.
Of course, I'll have to wear these things till I get down-town and can borrow some more of a kid, and then I'll send 'em back. Say, if I'm a swell like she said I was, and my name's Lionel Armacost, if you please, what's the matter with my pressing the button and getting a little light on a dark subject?"
He had pulled off his hat, thrust it under his arm, and extended his hand toward the lady, to assist her, as courteously and gracefully as any grown gentleman could have done; even if not with quite so much strength. Repressing a smile at the difference in size between her assistant and herself, Miss Armacost quietly placed her hand within his and stepped to the sidewalk.
Unconsciously he attracted a deal of attention from the throngs of pleasure-seekers, and Miss Armacost felt herself unpleasantly conspicuous. Yet there was not an eye which beheld him that did not brighten because of his happiness; and in spite of her annoyance at the gaze of her fellow townsmen, the owner of the chestnuts felt also a sort of pride in its cause.
This was slippery in spots, as Towsley observed, and he remarked: "Better let me hold your hand till you get clear up the steps, hadn't you, Miss Lucy?" "Yes, dear, I think I would much better." Then when the lad reached the top and she had rung for admittance, she turned to him with a lovely smile: "Welcome home, Lionel Towsley Armacost." "Thank you, Miss Lucy.
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