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Updated: June 21, 2025
But at last she ordered the coachman homeward, and they rode slowly out of the park, down the beautiful Avenue toward the Armacost mansion and Towsley's new home. He sank back into his place with a profound sigh of mingled pleasure and regret: "To think they never had a sleigh-ride!" "Humph! How many have you had, before this one, Lionel?" "Why why why none." "I thought so.
All that my little Lionel has pointed out shall certainly be done. This shall become a 'home' indeed; a home of busy thrift, and hard study, and joyous life, and open generosity. Towsley's experience of his few years, shall piece the inexperience of my many; and together, giving of each other to each other, we will make this a model, practical 'home." "Aye, aye.
A great mass of the snow was dislodged by the movement of the door and fell in clouds over Towsley's big hat and fine costume; also the tight shoes upon his feet seemed to make him stumble and stagger sadly; but he was not to be deterred by such trifles as these. The cold breath of the wind was delightful to him, the rush of outer air meant freedom.
She was thinking of something else. The clasp of those young arms about her neck thrilled her with a joy unspeakable. With such an expression as it now wore, Towsley's face seemed, indeed, that of the lost, innocent Lionel restored to life.
I think he'd feel more comfortable if I did." "Certainly, if you like. Please help yourself, since Mary has gone on my errand. No, I thank you. I do not care for any." Miss Armacost caught the astonishment in Towsley's eyes as she thus indifferently declined ice-cream, and was amused by it.
There was too much soil of the street upon the rest of the little face to make it pleasing in Miss Lucy's sight. Besides, her dainty nose already detected a peculiar odor, one unfamiliar to her home, and that in her mind she designated as the "poor smell." Which was not surprising, since not even Molly could have told when Towsley's ragged clothing had been cleansed by soap and water.
The tray bore a plate of fruit cake and some saucers of ice-cream; and at sight of these luxuries Towsley's shyness almost disappeared. He was such a very hungry little boy. He always had been hungry, for the scraps which he picked up out of garbage barrels and at the back-doors of houses were not very satisfying.
They were both silent for a brief while, and the words made a deep impression upon Towsley's heart; a warm and gentle heart at all times, though not always a wise one in its judgments. "Well, my boy. I'm waiting for your story, and I'm a pretty busy man. Along about time for giving out the papers you wouldn't care to be hindered needlessly, would you?"
The sight of her troubled face aroused not only all Towsley's chivalry, but that of the reporter also. Instantly, he regretted that he had so promptly availed himself of the newsboy's "ghost story," and had thought more of furnishing "copy" than of a gentlewoman's feelings. "For she's not the sort will like to have her private experiences made public gossip," he reflected, ruefully.
Towsley's bright eyes had observed where the electric button was, when Jefferson had lighted the hall bedroom earlier in the night, and he now manipulated it for his own benefit. A soft radiance promptly filled the pretty room and showed him where each article lay.
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