“Puir bairnie,” she said, “it’s no mysel’ that wad we in the way o’ a work like what you hae been doin’, and if I have na the skill to help you in what you hae to do wi’ the puir crooked back, I can e’en comfort the lane heart a bit now and then, and help it take courage for the fight with the world, that is na sae bad after a’ as some folk would ca’ it, nor bad enough to think the worse o’ a young doctor that’s willing to shelter one o’ the Lord’s sorrowful bairns, when he might hae the finest pair o’ hands in the country to open the door for those that are looking for him.”
“Good for you, Joan,” said the doctor, smiling again, “and you needn’t fear any one is going to look as far as the limbs after they once get sight of the pair of eyes that shine out above them.”
“That’s all right,” he added to himself a moment later, as he shook the reins over the black horse’s head. “Creepy has Joan for his friend for ever; now for Mrs. Ganderby.”
CHAPTER IX.
Joan left the doctor’s office and retired to her own part of the house with mingled thoughts and sentiments. She had persuaded the doctor to grant her cherished wish: there was to be some one beside an old woman to open the door for his calls, and some one, if not in livery, at least in a tailor’s suit. But a crooked back! How was that ever going to look?
“Weel, weel, it were a deed o’ charity at the least, and like the doctor’s ain sel’ to see that sic a thing could be done at the same time he waur gratifying old Joan’s pride, and doing the worthy and respectable thing for himsel’. And who kenned but it might gie a bit o’ look o’ distinction to the house, after a’? And who could leave a bairn like that to greet his days awa’ alane and unpitied in what the doctor who kenned the truth o’ it a’ was pleased to call a prison. Not auld Joan. Nane suld ever say that.”
Her reflections were hardly ended, before the black horse had sped away over the distance from the office to the almshouse, and the doctor was at the door again. That had long ago ceased to surprise any one; the wonder to-day was that, instead of making his way at once to Creepy’s corner, he remained at least ten minutes closeted with Mrs. Ganderby, and when at last the door opened, he held it ajar long enough for Sue, just ready to dart away from the old clock, to hear her say,
“Well, well, sir, if you have such a thought in your heart, it’s not for me to do anything but rejoice that the Lord has shown such pity upon him, which at the same time, there’s no one in the house but will be sorry to miss the poor crooked thing, nor can do anything but wonder how you can find any way to manage things for a poor little ill-favored creature like him, much less to find him of any use to yourself; though after the change you’ve succeeded in making already, which it often seems to me you have done it more as the apostles used to cause the lame to walk than as a real living man of our day could be expected, no one can feel inclined to doubt or to wonder at anything you undertake.”