"Mr. Regy says I'm to be a printer," continued the boy, fixing his large brown eyes on hers; "and I'm to go to school at the Five Points, and learn to read and spell, and by-and-by, he says, there's no knowing but I may be a great man, and print newspapers."
Marion started. This was Mr. Lambert's plan. Had he told Mr. Regy of it?
"How does Mr. Regy look?" This inquiry was addressed to one of the nurses, who was passing.
"Very oddly," she replied, laughing. "He's about fifty or sixty years old, very gray hair, which he wears long, floating over his shoulders."
Marion laughed too as she said, "I've often heard of him, but I never saw him."
Mr. Lambert was over sixty; but his hair, naturally light, had not turned gray, and was cut short to his head.
"He stoops a little," added the nurse, "and makes frightful faces. Some of the little ones were afraid of him, but before he went away he coaxed them to sit in his lap and put their hands in his pockets, where they found nuts and raisins and candy in abundance. A lady came in to see a little cripple, and as she passed him surrounded by a group of them, Neddy's chair rolled as close as he could get it, she remarked, smiling, 'It's a blessed work, sir.'"
"Mr. Regy had not seen her before, and he started to his feet, looking very angry.
"'Troublesome little brats!' he shouted, pushing them away."
"Just like Mr. Lambert," was Marion's reflection. "How very strange there should be two such men!"