Martha, however, did her duty. She thought Mr. Pryor a very agreeable
gentleman; "far more agreeable than his sister," she told William
afterwards. "I don't know why," said Martha, "but I sort of distrust
that woman. But the brother is all right; you can see that--and a very
intelligent man, too. We discussed a good many points, and I found we
agreed perfectly."
Mr. Pryor also had an opinion on that supper-table talk. He said to
himself grimly, that Nelly's bread and jam would have been better. But
probably bread and jam, followed by young Sam Wright, would have
seemed less desirable than Mrs. King's excellent supper.
It was about seven when the boy appeared at the Stuffed Animal House.
Had Mr. Pryor been at home, Helena would, no doubt, have found some
way of dismissing him; as it was, she let him stay. He was bareheaded;
he had seen a bird flapping painfully about in the road, and catching
it in gentle hands had discovered that its wing was broken, so put it
tenderly in his cap and brought it to Mrs. Richie's door.
"Poor little thing!" she cried, when he showed it to her. "I wish Mr.
Pryor would come back; he would tell us what to do for it."
"Oh, is he here?" Sam asked blankly.
"Well, not at this moment. He has gone to take tea at Dr. King's."
Sam's face lightened with relief.
"You mustn't tell anybody you saw me this evening," she charged him
gayly. "I didn't go to Mrs. King's because--I had such a very bad
headache!"
"Is it better?" he asked, so anxiously that she blushed.
"Oh, yes, yes. But before tea I--didn't want to go."
"I'm glad you didn't," he said, and forgot her in caring for the bird.
He ordered a box and some cotton batting--"and give me your
handkerchief." As he spoke, he took it from her surprised hand and
tore it into strips; then, lifting the broken wing with exquisite
gentleness, he bound it into place. She looked at the bandages
ruefully, but Sam was perfectly matter-of-course. "It would have been
better without lace," he said; "but it will do. Will you look at him
sometimes? Just your touch will cure him, I think."
Mrs. Richie laughed.
"Well, you can laugh, but it's true. When I am near you I have no pain
and no worry; nothing but happiness." He sat down beside her on the
old claw-footed sofa near the fire, for it was cool enough these
spring evenings to have a little fire. He leaned forward, resting his
chin on his fist, and staring into the blaze. Once he put his hand out
and touched her dress softly, and smiled to himself. Then abruptly, he
came out of his reverie, and spoke with joyous excitement: "Why! I forgot what I came to tell you about--something extraordinary
has happened!"