Good Miss Leslie looked as she felt,—pained and puzzled. How was she to broach the idea she had of adopting Boy, if he was already considered by his stupid mother to be a sort of stop-gap or “buffer” between herself and the drunken rages of her “honourable” lord and master? She resolved to temporize.
“I have been wondering,” she began gently, as she settled the little fellow more comfortably on her lap “whether you would let Boy come and stay with me for a few days——”
“Stay with you!” exclaimed Mrs. D’Arcy-Muir—and so surprised was she that she actually lifted her bulky form an inch or two out of its sunken attitude in the arm-chair—“With you, Letitia? A child like that? Why, you would not know in the least what to do with him!”
“I think I should,” submitted Miss Letty, with a little smile,—“Besides, of course you could send Gerty with him if you liked. But I do not think it would be necessary. I have an excellent maid who is devoted to children;—and then he could have a large room to play about in—and——”
“Oh, it would never do!—never—never!” declared Boy’s mother, shaking her head with a half-reproachful, half-compassionate air. “You see, my dear Letitia, it is not as if you were married and had children of your own. You wouldn’t understand how to manage Boy a bit.”
“You think not?” said Miss Letty patiently. “Well—perhaps I might be a little ignorant—but would you let me try?”
“I could not—I really could not!” and Mrs. D’Arcy-Muir smoothed her floppy blouse over her massive bosom with a protective pat of her large hand. “Boy would simply break his heart without me. Wouldn’t you, Boy?”
Boy thus adjured, looked round enquiringly. He had been busy arranging “Kiss-Letty’s” gold chain in loops and twists, such as pleased his fancy, and thus employed, had failed to follow the conversation.
“How wouldn’t Boy?” he demanded.
“Boy wouldn’t like to leave Muzzy,” explained Mrs. D’Arcy-Muir unctuously—“would he?”