CHAPTER III.
Not so wonderful perhaps, after all. If there was a doctor in the world, besides the soulless visitor of the year before, stupid enough to praise the workmanship of a cripple’s chair, and never feel himself roused at the demand made upon his own skill by the cripple, it was not Dr. Thorndyke. He had not passed half way from the door of Ben’s room to the bedside before his eye caught the strange, dwarfed, little figure stationed motionless in the window, but following every movement in the room with its great, dreamy eyes.
The matron admired and wondered at the careful but swift conclusion of his study of Ben’s case; and when he had—she did not know how—made her feel sure he understood it, and had shown so kind an interest in the old man, and had gone again, it was scarcely five minutes by the great clock in the hall since he came in. But she did not once imagine that in the same time he had come closer to Creepy, and seen more clearly what the poor, twisted little frame and the shrinking heart were needing, than she had in the whole three years she had taken the responsibilities of the almshouse upon herself.
“But not now,” he said to himself as he passed the window with so quick a glance that Creepy had no idea he even saw him; “we want more time, that child and I. I think there’s a chance there for a doctor to amount to something, for once in a way.”
So here he was, for Dr. Thorndyke never lost much time when once he had determined upon a thing; and he was fairly seated beside his new patient before Creepy had recovered from the amazement of hearing himself inquired for sufficiently to draw a breath.
“So, so, young man,” said the doctor, stooping for a quick look into Creepy’s face, “enjoying the free air and the sunshine with the rest of the world, eh? Well,” and he lifted his hat to catch the breeze, “it’s a day to make the most of, and I haven’t seen a more tempting place to pass an hour anywhere. How the light showers down through these yellow leaves! Is there enough for you and me both for a little while, do you think?”
Creepy could not have spoken to save his life, but the answer shone out of his eyes, and the doctor was satisfied with that.
“It’s a day to make one feel like a boy again,” he said, pulling up a handful of grass and showering the seeds through the sunlight. “And so they’ve all imagined they were children and gone off to the woods, I hear?”