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"Then, I guess we'd better drop it. I was only trying to be good to you." "Towsley, boy! you're quite well enough to go home.
Tell me the whole story; from start to finish." "Say, you tell me, first. Was I half dead in the snow? Did you find me and fetch me here, like I heard them say? 'Cause if you did, I I I'd like to do something back for you, yourself." "Oh! that's all right, my lad. You'll have a chance. Don't fear." "What do you mean, sir? What can I do?" asked Towsley eagerly.
It was his duty to be good to her; and, like many another child under similar circumstances, at that moment Towsley felt that the word "duty" was the most disagreeable one in the language. He took a second real good look at Miss Lucy still sitting, waiting, and this time he saw something in her face that made everything quite easy.
She remembered that when she was a child herself she had used to wish her dinners might always begin with the dessert. But they never had. She resolved that Towsley should escape this disappointment of her own early days, and drawing the pie toward her divided it into quarters. It was a large pie and might easily have been served in eighths without any skimpiness; but she gave him a quarter.
Just then, while Towsley was watching the ice-cream begin to melt, the portiere was again lifted and the maid re-entered, leading a fat, fuzzy dog. She led him by a beautiful blue satin ribbon, and he blundered along in a haphazard sort of way that was exceedingly curious. Molly's gaze left the pictures on the walls to regard him. "Why, what a funny creature!
At that instant, the electric door-bell rang in a peculiar, prolonged, and rather gentle fashion. Towsley couldn't understand why Miss Lucy's face paled still further; nor why, after Mary had answered the summons, she should slam the door viciously, and almost run back along the hall to her own quarters.
It would have taken more than one pie to have injured the digestion of such a boy as Towsley. He lay in beatific slumber, his sunny hair gleaming in the rays from his visitor's candle, his long lashes sweeping his dirty cheeks, and his lips parted in a happy smile. Miss Lucy's heart bounded with delight. "What a beauty he is, or will be when he's clean! How I shall love him!
I hope it is a happiness which will continue, because it is the beginning of a life for others. But I wish to make that life as wise as possible. I am afraid of mistakes. I want your advice; the advice of every one here present. I mean to adopt this boy, Towsley the new Lionel Armacost. Tell me, friends, how best can I rear him to be a blessing to his race?"
There were father Johns, and Doctor Frank, and Mr. Graham; besides Molly and Towsley I mean Lionel sitting cosily together on one of the very same satin sofas of which, such a little while before, they had both been afraid. With a slight hesitation, Miss Lucy began: "I believe that this has been the happiest day of my life.
Towsley laughed, so gayly and loudly that anxious Miss Lucy tiptoed to the outside of the closed door and asked, eagerly: "Can't I come in yet?" The jolly doctor gave a nod of his head and Towsley opened to admit his friend.
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