"Not so fast, Kittie; father left it to me altogether. He knew it would be unpleasant to have that deformed boy always before me, and so he would give no answer to old Patrick without my consent; and I don't believe I shall say yes very soon. I'm sorry Jim went away, for I loved to come down here sometimes while he had the place; he always had something nice to say to me."
"And yet Jim was wicked, dear Willie, and used to beat Brindle, and kick the horses every day; and I heard him call you names to Bridget once, when you told him to wheel you about the garden. To be sure he didn't know I was near; but if he had really liked you, he would have felt the same and acted the same every where. I hope you'll let Archie come, he's so gentle and kind, and it will be a good deed on your part, too, Willie."
"I don't know," muttered the lad; "it's bad enough to have one cripple about without multiplying them. People would call this the hospital, or the asylum for the deformed, if they saw many such objects around here."
"Never mind _people_, Willie; it's better to feel that you are doing good than to be guided by what people would say and what people would think. Mamma teaches me to go by that rule, and I'm sure I'm a great deal happier for it. I never think now of any body when I want to do any thing, but go right on and do it, if I think it is best. Only let Archie come, and you'll see what a difference it will make to your life. He is a good boy, and he knows a great deal, too; more than I can learn for a long, long time, so that it will do us no harm to be with him. Mamma says she does not care who I associate with, if it is a good and intelligent child. All she wants is to keep me away from the wicked and ignorant, and she never says no when I ask to go to Archibald Mackie's; and I'm sure my mother knows!" and Kittie seated herself on the bench beside the vacant house, waiting for some decision from Willie, who was still wavering.
If he should consent, there would be a constant remembrancer of his own defective person ever before him; it was quite enough to be sensible of his condition without so palpable an image haunting the precincts of his home. Then Kittie would be drawn from him to the poor boy, who had already enlisted more of her sympathies than he had ever done. He would like to please her, though, and it would be a sort of patronage toward the boy that might exalt himself in Kittie's estimation.