He did so, although for a moment he felt inclined to run away. There was a lady in the room, and four children—two large boys, a delicate looking girl about five years old, and a baby boy who was sitting on the floor playing with a kitten, but who stopped and stared at Guy as he entered.
The other children did the same, and Guy was beginning to feel very timid and uncomfortable, when the lady asked who he wished to see.
He told her Mrs. Harwood, and the eldest boy said, "That's ma's name, isn't it, ma? What do you want of ma? say!"
Guy said nothing to the rude boy, but told Mrs. Harwood what he had heard on the street.
"It is true," she said kindly, "I do want a nurse. Has some one sent you here to apply for the place?"
"No, ma'am," he replied, "no one sent me, but—but—I came—of myself—because—I thought—my—mother—might—perhaps suit you."
"Why, that is a strange thing for a little boy to do!" exclaimed Mrs. Harwood.
"Hullo, Gus," cried the boy that had before spoken, "here's a friend of mine; guess he's the original Young America, 'stead of me!"
"George, be silent," said his mother, very sternly. "Now, child," she continued, turning again to Guy, "you may tell me how you ever thought of doing so strange a thing as applying for a place for your mother, unless she told you to do so. Is she unkind to you? Do you want her to leave you?"