“A little wild and rough, that’s all; boy-like; high-spirited; right stuff in him.”
“No doubt, papa; but he is so very rough.”
“Then we’ll use plenty of sand-paper and make him smooth. Moral sand-paper. Capital boy, my dear. Had a deal of trouble in getting him—by George! the young wolf! He has finished that cake.”
“Then you really mean to keep him, papa?” said Helen, glancing at the boy, where he sat diligently picking up a few crumbs and a currant which he had dropped.
“Mean to keep him? Now, my dear Helen, when did you ever know me undertake anything, and not carry it out!”
“Never, papa.”
“Then I am not going to begin now. There is the boy.”
“Yes, papa,” said Helen rather sadly; “there is the boy.”
“I mean to make him a gentleman, and I must ask you to help me with the poor orphan—”
“He is an orphan, then!” said Helen quickly.