“I am a little surprised to find that it is so late,” he answered, “still one can hardly skim over our model if he would know it in all its details. There are some patients whom I must see, so I will leave you for a while.”
As he left me I turned to study more the grouping of the rooms we had visited. They were on either side an elliptical[elliptical] shaped hallway that terminated in a graceful entrance to the dining-room which was the full width of the house at the rear. In the center of the hall was a most ingeniously constructed fountain which served not only to beautify, but also as a convenient place for drinking water for that floor. It represented a miniature lake in which, indeed, sweet waterlilies appeared to float. They proved to be, however, but fine enamel work in colors so natural as to tempt one to gather the lilies as they lay there. From the ewer in the right hand of the exquisitely carved figure in the center, the water poured forth to the lake beneath, while in the left hand another beautiful lily was upheld, completely hiding in its cup a drinking-glass.
I lingered here with admiring gaze. The incandescent lights above had shades of green and white only, and I longed for evening to come when I could see the fountain in its full beauty. The potted ferns arranged so cleverly amid the large pieces of natural rock made the effect very charming. On the previous evening, being somewhat fatigued and enthralled by all that I had seen before entering the house, I had given this delightful spot only a cursory glance and had not realized how beautiful it was.
Ascending the broad stairway I happened to meet Mrs. Chester and with her had the pleasure of visiting several of the rooms and their occupants.
Among the first on whom we called was an elderly gentleman. There he sat in his easy chair, looking bright and cheerful despite the gray clouds without. Our introduction revealed the fact that I had known some of the younger members of his family, but they were all gone, and he, the last, had come to this haven of rest and peace. Though a little feeble, he was able to get about, slowly but surely, with the younger people’s help, and I was happy to see as his companion a young boy who had been sitting there so quietly that we had hardly noticed him.
“And who may you be,” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “I call myself Mr. Lansing’s ‘chum,’ because we spend so much time together, but my name is Ned Tompkins.”
“So you are Mr. Lansing’s ‘chum.’ What do you mean by that?” I inquired.
“It is this way,” he said, “when they found and brought me here six years ago Mr. Lansing saw me and began to take particular interest in me. Though they were all good his kindness seemed to touch the right spot and was very welcome to a waif like me, for he seemed like a grandpa would be to a boy if he had one, and I never knew how nice it was to have a real grandpa, but used to imagine it lots of times. So I’ve tried to be all I could to him and have grown to love him dearly, and we are good comrades. Aren’t we, Mr. Lansing?” he broke off abruptly.
“That we are, my lad,” Mr. Lansing answered, “and very glad I am to have you.” Turning to me he continued, “He makes the days go happily by for me by bringing me the papers and reading (for my eyes don’t see just as they used), and now and then we play checkers or the other games dear to such old people as I, and days when I can’t get around so well, he never forgets me up here.”