He nodded his head in the direction of Helen, and stood upon one leg to ease the foot which the shoe pinched.
“That’s right, but don’t say she. You must look upon Miss Grayson now as if she were your sister.”
“Yes, that I will,” said the boy warmly.
Helen flushed a little at her father’s words, and a serious look came into her sweet face; but at that moment she felt Dexter steal his hand into hers, and then it was lifted and held against the boy’s cheek, as, in feline fashion, he rubbed his face against it, and a smile came into her eyes again, as she laid the hand at liberty upon the closely cropped head.
“I say, ain’t she pretty, and don’t she look nice?” said Dexter suddenly; and his free and easy way made the doctor frown: but he looked at the boy’s appearance, and in the belief that he would soon change the manners to match, he nodded, and said, “Yes.”
Helen looked at her father, as if asking him what next, but the doctor joined his finger-tips and frowned, as if thinking deeply.
“Dexter and I have been filling his drawers with his new clothes and linen,” she said.
“Yes; such a lot of things,” cried the boy; “and is that always to be my bedroom?”
“Yes; that’s to be your room,” said the doctor.
“And I’ve got three pairs of boots. I mean two pairs of boots, and one pair of shoes,” cried Dexter. “One pair on, and two in the bedroom; and I shall get up at six o’clock every morning, and clean ’em, and I’ll clean yours too.”