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Updated: June 17, 2025
I wonder if I'm too late to get my papers? If I'm not, what a haul I'll make in these duds! Maybe enough to buy a suit for myself down at Cheap John's store. Then I'd have these wrapped in brown paper and sent back to Miss Armacost with my compliments. The compliments of Mister Towsley Lionel Towhead Armacost, esquire! Hi! ain't that a notion! But plague take these shoes!
But he dared not show his feelings to his mistress, and with a gruff "Come along, then," he guided Towsley toward the top of the house. An hour later Miss Lucy called Mary. "Did he take his bath nicely? Was he troublesome to Jefferson? I thought I heard voices rather loud ones." "Yes, ma'am, I guess you did. They had some words, them two. No, ma'am, he didn't take his bath.
Here's a bath-robe by the door used to belong to the other Lionel. Miss Lucy says, wear it." Towsley had seen such robes in the shop windows; and as he folded this one about him and thrust his feet into the warm little slippers, also provided, he had a curious feeling that he was thus investing himself with his new life. But this made him very unhappy.
Then she offered him the cheese, which he declined by a negative wave of his grimy hand; his mouth being at the instant too much occupied for speech. Before Miss Armacost had carved a slice of beef, as a second course for the young gentleman, his pie plate was empty. "Would you like another piece, Towsley?" "I'd like it, if you can spare it." "Oh! certainly. I am glad you enjoy it.
I've always skipped such articles in the newspapers, for they're so unpleasant, and I've never half believed them. But you mean it, do you?" "That I must go? I don't know what you want me to say. I guess I've slept my wits away, as Molly says." "Towsley, ring that bell. My! what a name!"
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.
Towsley had taken his ragged cap in his hand, fastened his torn jacket by its one button, and was shuffling carefully along the hall toward the front door. Miss Armacost espied him just in time. "Wait, child. I've something to say to you. Come back into the light and warmth. It's cold and dark outside." "Yes'm. So I s'pose," he answered, obeying her rather reluctantly. "Don't you want to stay?
Anyway, I can tell her just what kind of a boy Towsley is and how well he can take care of himself. He isn't lost. He mustn't be. He cannot shall not be!" cried the girl, excitedly. "Very well. Put the stew in the china bowl" the one nice dish that their cupboard possessed "and take your grandmother's little stone teapot.
But I couldn't help it, could I? That old black man took my own clothes away and left these, and I couldn't go out without any, could I? She was a nice old lady and her pie was good. Pretty good, I mean. But she wasn't going to catch Towsley and adopt him, not if he could help himself! No, siree! So I waited till everybody was asleep, then I lit out." "Smart boy!
Had it been out of love, after all, that she had given him her dead nephew's pretty garments and her dead nephew's aristocratic name? It was all very puzzling, and Towsley felt unequal to solving the riddle, although it was he who always was first among the fellows to find the answers to the printed riddles on the children's page of the weekly Express.
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