CHAPTER XXIV.
The few months slipped away and the birthday came, or at least the day that was always celebrated as such; for though neither Mrs. Ganderby nor any of the other people under the shadow of the old butternut-tree had the least idea when or where the record should have been made, the doctor called him just twelve when he first saw him, and insisted upon a birthday every year that same day in October.
Aleck went to the store an hour before time to catch him and have his talk out before people began to come in. But early as he was, Thorndyke was there before him, and a customer too; so Aleck retreated into the sheltered corner behind the desk to wait his opportunity. Thorndyke gave him a nod and a radiant look as he came in, for these birthdays were times when, for one day in the year, the “all but me” was forced to flee away; the doctor had always planned some excursion, and managed that he could bear it; and the little room, that had seemed such a paradise the first time he saw it, was gradually filling up with treasures, more and more beautiful every year, until the walls would hardly hold anything more. Uncle Ralph’s was missing this time, but all the rest were there, even to old Joan’s; and the flowers that had always come from Nelly since the very first, “went ahead,” as Aleck called it, of all that had ever come before. The doctor was in high spirits, and Thorndyke thought “the princess” had never been so bewitching in her gentle, lovely ways. He couldn’t say “All but me” this morning; he had almost forgotten it, and there was actually a bit of color in his cheeks, and the great eyes shone as Aleck had not seen them since that day he stood before the window so many years ago.
Aleck sat and watched him as he went about to fill the prescription waited for.
“Good for him!” he said to himself; “the boy looks gay this morning. But I declare I wish I didn’t remember how he looked that miserable day at the school. That thing between his shoulders was hardly worth noticing then; I wonder the boys saw it at all—and now! It seems as if it almost buried that splendid head and face of his, and I know the pain is always there by the patient, wistful look out of his eyes. And his step that flew down the street so that I couldn’t catch him that day! It never breaks now from that slow, noiseless way it has. Well, it’s no use thinking what might have been, and I suppose I should never have had him here if all had gone well. Will that man never be ready to go? Ah, there he is actually steering for the door!”
But at the same instant somebody else came in, only a little child, however, wanting something that would take but a moment. So Aleck possessed his soul in patience; there surely would not be any one else in, it was so early.
But what was the matter with Thorndyke?
The child stood innocently enough before the counter, but Thorndyke’s face was growing white, the glow was gone, and sharp lines coming in its place, and the thin fingers trembled so that it seemed as if the package never would be tied. But it was done at last, and Thorndyke handed it to the child with the same smile and the same gentle “Anything more?” that the customers had learned to expect. But when the door was shut, Aleck started. What was the matter? Thorndyke was leaning against the wall, his lips pressed tightly together, and the great veins showing blue and hard on his forehead.