Part 9 (1/2)
”No; eat it yourself.”
”Would he have a bit if I asked him!” said the boy, torturing himself in his generous impulse.
”No, no. You eat it, my boy.”
Once more the cake was within an inch of the bright sparkling teeth, but the bite was not taken. Instead of eating, the boy held out the cake to his hostess.
”Cut it in half, please,” he said; ”fair halves.”
”What for?”
”I'm going to eat one bit; t'other's for Billy Jingle. He's had measles, and been very bad, and he's such a good chap.”
”You shall have a piece to send to your schoolfellow,” said Helen, with her eyes a little moist now, for the boy's generous spirit was gaining upon her, and she looked at him with more interest than she had displayed a few minutes before.
The boy took a tremendous bite, and began to munch as he sat upon a velvet-covered ha.s.sock; but he jumped up directly, and held out the bitten cake again, to say, with his mouth full--
”Oh, do have a bit. It's lovely.”
Helen smiled, and laid her hand upon the boy's shoulder, as she shook her head, when to her surprise he caught the soft white hand in his left, gazed hard at it, and then pressed it against his cheek, making a soft purring noise, no bad imitation of a cat.
Then he sat eating and holding the hand which was not taken away, till, as the little stranger munched on in the full enjoyment of the wondrous novelty, the doctor said sharply, ”Helen, come here.”
The boy stared, but went on eating, and the doctor's daughter crossed the room to where her father sat.
CHAPTER SIX.
A QUICKSILVER GLOBULE.
”Well, papa?” she said, looking into his face in a half-amused way.
”Well, Helen,” said the doctor, taking her hand and drawing her to him; ”about this boy?”
”Yes, dear. You have made up your mind to adopt and bring one up,” she said, in a low tone which the lad could not hear.
”Yes,” said the doctor, taking his tone from her, ”to turn the raw material into the polished cultured article.”
”But of course you will take this one back, and select another!”
”And pray why!” said the doctor sharply.
”I thought--I thought--” faltered Helen.
”Oh, nonsense! Better for proving my theory.”
”Yes, papa, but--”
”A little wild and rough, that's all; boy-like; high-spirited; right stuff in him.”