Repressing a smile at the difference in size between her assistant and herself, Miss Armacost quietly placed her hand within his and stepped to the sidewalk. This was slippery in spots, as Towsley observed, and he remarked:
“Better let me hold your hand till you get clear up the steps, hadn’t you, Miss Lucy?”
“Yes, dear, I think I would much better.” Then when the lad reached the top and she had rung for admittance, she turned to him with a lovely smile:
“Welcome home, Lionel Towsley Armacost.”
“Thank you, Miss Lucy. I hope we won’t neither of us ever be sorry I’ve come.”
She liked his answer; liked it far more than she would have done one full of enthusiasm. So they went in together, well pleased, and as the boy had been so lately a hospital patient, he was sent early to bed and to sleep.
As she had done before, Miss Lucy visited him afterward, and enjoyed without restraint the sight of her adopted son, lying so peacefully upon his pillow. For there were now no soiled stains of the street to mar his beauty, and the little hands upon the coverlet were as dainty as need be.
But even in slumber Towsley had an uncomfortable effect upon the lady’s thoughts: reminding her of the many other little lads who had shared his poverty yet not his present good fortune. She had never considered her house as an especially large one till his small person served to show the size of the empty rooms, and how tiny a space one child could occupy.
Miss Lucy sat so long that she grew chilled. Then she reflected that she might easily become ill, which would be most unfortunate now, since she had taken a child to care for. So she rose rather stiffly and started for her own room; though she had not taken a dozen steps in its direction before she came to a sudden, startled pause. Somebody was ringing her door-bell. Ringing it persistently, without waiting for any response.
“Oh, dear! That must be somebody in trouble! Or, possibly, a special delivery message from the post-office or express; though I’m sure I have nobody near and dear enough to call upon me in that manner. Yes, yes, I’m coming!” she cried to the invisible visitor, though she knew perfectly that her voice could not reach him.