“I confess I hoped you might see it in that light,” admitted Dr. Lighton. “I trust you will not consider I have been intrusive in saying so much.”
“Not at all. You have only done your duty promptly, whilst I have been inclined to be slack in the performance of mine. You consider it probable that the boy’s memory will return shortly?”
“I should be quite inclined to think so, and all the sooner for a return to civilized life. Some chord can hardly fail to be struck, and at any moment a flash of memory might bring the whole past back. Nobody can pronounce a decided opinion in such cases; but my own feeling is that such a state of mind will only prove a temporary phase, and that he will soon be able to give a rational account of himself.”
“Very good,” returned the Squire; “the sooner the better for me; but until that time comes he shall have a home here. I will send for him to-morrow.”
“You are very good,” answered the young man; “I feel personally grateful.”
The Squire smiled a little.
“You seem to take an interest in the child.”
“I do. The case is interesting professionally for one thing, and there is undoubtedly something interesting in the boy himself, as you will see for yourself when he comes.”
The Squire’s face had put on an expression not easy to read.
“I shall hardly be likely to see much of him myself,” he said, with an odd intonation in his voice. “Children are not in my line.”