"Yes; I have one boy."
"I suppose he can walk and run and jump and swim. You just wait, I like you—I am going to send your little boy a present, for you are going to cure mamma, I know. How old is your little boy?"
"He is twelve years old."
"Just the same age I am. How do you suppose he would like a horse? Do you think he would rather have a dog? Oh, I don't mean a truly one—only one I draw. You tell him, when you give it to him, Augustus Earle, a boy who can't run and walk like him, drew it, and sends his love with it.—I will not be gone long."
After Augustus had left, neither spoke for some time; not till the clatter of his chair was lost, then William said, and his voice was low and gentle:
"Clarissa, why did you not tell me of this years ago?" She made no reply. "Why did you let me remain ignorant that I was a father?—Won't you speak?"
"He does not belong to you."
"Clarissa, you don't realize the significance of what you say. That is my son—I know it, and it is useless to deny it. Why you should try to I cannot understand.—What is the cause of his lameness? I may be able to cure him, and make him so he can walk. He is a handsome boy."
"I say you shall not cure him;—I have cared for him so long, and—"
"Here I am, Dr. Baxter, I think I will send both of these, then he will be sure to be pleased. I am so glad you are going to eat with us—Aunt Dinah has put an extra plate, and made me promise to be on my best behavior. You see, Aunt Dinah forgets that I am not a baby because I cannot walk, but I can play and sing and draw better than boys that can play games. I have a boat—I will go fetch it. Do you know, Rex has learned to swim and sail it for me, and I sit and watch it. It is a good boat, for a fisherman told me so. Rex, go and get my boat. Now Doctor, you just see if he does not fetch it. He knows what I want, for he takes care of me.—There is Aunt Dinah calling. I have to go and let her fuss over me. She rubs my face and hands, and combs my hair just as they do a baby's, and if I get angry and wash myself, she says I am not clean.—If I do not go, she will come for me, and rub soap and water into my mouth and eyes and say, 'You are the perfect acting image of your father, you are.' I will be ready by the time supper is; I am so glad you are going to stay. I will show you my drawings, and sing for you too. Mamma says I sing splendidly.—There's Dinah again.—We will have a jolly time, and you can tell me all about your little boy."