Isnt it pitty?
Mr. Hamlin was instantly his old self again. Thrusting his hand comfortably under the pillow, he lay on his side and gazed at it long and affectionately. I never, he said in a faint voice, but with immovable features, saw anything so perfectly beautiful. Is it alive?
Its a dolly, she returned gravely, smoothing down its frock and straightening its helpless feet. Then seized with a spontaneous idea, like a young animal she suddenly presented it to him with both hands and said,
Kiss it.
Mr. Hamlin implanted a chaste salute on its vermilion cheek. Would you mind letting me hold it for a little? he said with extreme diffidence.
The child was delighted, as he expected. Mr. Hamlin placed it in a sitting posture on the edge of his bed, and put an ostentatious paternal arm around it.
But youre alive, aint you? he said to the child.
This subtle witticism convulsed her. Im a little girl, she gurgled.
I see; her mother?
Ess.
And whos your mother?
Mammy.
Mrs. Rivers?
The child nodded until her ringlets were shaken on her cheek. After a moment she began to laugh bashfully and with repression, yet as Mr. Hamlin thought a little mischievously. Then as he looked at her interrogatively she suddenly caught hold of the ruffle of his sleeve.
Oos got on mammys nighty.
Mr. Hamlin started. He saw the childs obvious mistake and actually felt himself blushing. It was unprecedented it was the sheerest weakness it must have something to do with the confounded air.
I grieve to say you are deeply mistaken it is my very own, he returned with great gravity. Nevertheless, he drew the coverlet close over his shoulder. But here he was again attracted by another face at the half-opened door a freckled one, belonging to a boy apparently a year or two older than the girl. He was violently telegraphing to her to come away, although it was evident that he was at the same time deeply interested in the guests toilet articles. Yet as his bright gray eyes and Mr. Hamlins brown ones met, he succumbed, as the girl had, and walked directly to the bedside. But he did it bashfully as the girl had not. He even attempted a defensive explanation.
She hadnt oughter come in here, and mar wouldnt let her, and she knows it, he said with superior virtue.
But I asked her to come as Im asking you, said Mr. Hamlin promptly, and dont you go back on your sister or youll never be president of the United States. With this he laid his hand on the boys tow head, and then, lifting himself on his pillow to a half-sitting posture, put an arm around each of the children, drawing them together, with the doll occupying the central post of honor. Now, continued Mr. Hamlin, albeit in a voice a little faint from the exertion, now that were comfortable together Ill tell you the story of the good little boy who became a pirate in order to save his grandmother and little sister from being eaten by a wolf at the door.
But, alas! that interesting record of self-sacrifice never was told. For it chanced that Melinda Bird, Mrs. Riverss help, following the trail of the missing children, came upon the open door and glanced in. There, to her astonishment, she saw the domestic group already described, and to her eyes dominated by the most beautiful and perfectly elegant young man she had ever seen. But let not the incautious reader suppose that she succumbed as weakly as her artless charges to these fascinations. The character and antecedents of that young man had been already delivered to her in the kitchen by the other help. With that single glance she halted; her eyes sought the ceiling in chaste exaltation. Falling back a step, she called in ladylike hauteur and precision, Mary Emmeline and John Wesley.
Mr. Hamlin glanced at the children. Its Melindy looking for us, said John Wesley. But they did not move. At which Mr. Hamlin called out faintly but cheerfully, Theyre here, all right.
Again the voice arose with still more marked and lofty distinctness, John Wesley and Mary Em-me-line. It seemed to Mr. Hamlin that human accents could not convey a more significant and elevated ignoring of some implied impropriety in his invitation. He was for a moment crushed.
But he only said to his little friends with a smile, Youd better go now and well have that story later.
Affer beckus? suggested Mary Emmeline.
In the woods, added John Wesley.
Mr. Hamlin nodded blandly. The children trotted to the door. It closed upon them and Miss Birds parting admonition, loud enough for Mr. Hamlin to hear, No more freedoms, no more intrudings, you hear.
The older culprit, Hamlin, retreated luxuriously under his blankets, but presently another new sensation came over him absolutely, hunger. Perhaps it was the childs allusion to beckus, but he found himself wondering when it would be ready. This anxiety was soon relieved by the appearance of his host himself bearing a tray, possibly in deference to Miss Birds sense of propriety. It appeared also that Dr. Duchesne had previously given suitable directions for his diet, and Mr. Hamlin found his repast simple but enjoyable. Always playfully or ironically polite to strangers, he thanked his host and said he had slept splendidly.