The young man was not a Londoner; he was only studying at one of the London hospitals, and looking forward to the day when, fully qualified, he would be at liberty to practise his profession in the country. Brought up in a small provincial town, where he had known all the inhabitants, at any rate by sight, he could never understand the unconcern with which Londoners regard those who cross their path. He was always picking up acquaintances in an eccentric manner, as his fellow students declared, or mixing himself up in other people's business.
"It would be a much more unhappy world than it is, if no one interfered with what did not immediately affect himself!" Jim would retort good-naturedly. He was certainly in disposition very unlike the priest and the Levite in the parable, for he was always ready to go out of his way to assist any one; his desire was to be neighbourly to all the world. The young man was a general favourite, and though many of his acquaintances laughed at him, they could not help admiring him for his open, manly Christianity.
"Well, little one," he said cheerily, "are you having a peep at the dolls?"
"Yes, sir," the little girl responded, in a slightly abashed tone.
"I suppose you have a doll of your own at home?" he proceeded to enquire.
The child shook her head, whilst a smile crossed her face, as though she was amused at the thought. Then she turned to the window again and sighed. After watching her a few moments in silence, Jim drew nearer and asked:
"If you had the money, which would you buy?" She glanced at him doubtfully, being mistrustful of a stranger, but, reassured by his kind face, pointed to a large rosy-cheeked doll, in a gaudy amber-coloured frock. Jim saw it was ticketed half-a-crown.
"If I gave you that doll, would you be pleased?"
She looked at him hesitatingly, then drew back, the tears springing to her eyes, her cheeks crimsoning.
"You're making game of me!" she cried.