"Strange, wild little fellow!" she said. "I wonder if he'll come!" And when night came, she found herself listening for the sound of a quick step.
At last it came, and quickly Aunt Judith opened the door. Gyp walked in very meekly, and sat on the edge of a chair seat, his old hat in his hands. His hair was painfully smooth, and he wore a bright striped shirt, an old red tie, and while his suit could hardly be called "dressy," it certainly showed that the boy had brushed it, and that he had tried to improve his appearance.
At school he had learned that he must remove his hat when he entered a room, a fact that had greatly surprised him, but he had remembered it.
Aunt Judith felt that she must work carefully, lest Gyp be seized with fear, and bolt for the door, and freedom.
Gently she told him how, by doing his best, he would find friends who would deal kindly with him. That he might have friends if he chose, and that he could, by good behavior, force them to respect him.
"I will be your friend," she said, "and Gyp, let me prove it. Rose tells me that you find your lessons hard to master. Bring them to me evenings, and I will help you with them. You may come Wednesday, and Saturday evenings, and perhaps you can win promotion, so as to climb steadily up to a class of your own age."
"Do you think I could?" he asked. "Would they let me?"
"Make them do it, Gyp. You're smart enough. Come! What do you say? Let's try," Aunt Judith said.
"I'll do it," he said, "and if you help me, maybe I can get out of that class. They laugh at me, and it makes me mad to be called 'baby.'"
"Come over here with your books Saturday evening, and we'll see what we two can do," was the earnest reply.