Pat has acquired such an universal benevolence since Nannie is so fast bound unto him, that even Mike Dugan is welcomed into their little circle with a true cordiality.
Mike is not alone, however, when he comes to sit an hour with his old friend, Nannie; but is accompanied by the blushing Helen Dhue whom he calls "my wife."
"Oh! oh! mamma, dear, isn't it a pity he isn't a rich, boy like Cousin Willie? then he could have a carriage to take him about in, and nice clothes to cover up the hump on his back, and a pretty cane with a silver band every little way, and the people wouldn't push him about so, and call him 'ugly rascal,' as that great man did just now."
Kittie Fay's mother had noticed the sad object that was slowly moving up the street before her, trying in vain to keep his clumsy crutch out of the way of the passers-by, and she had heard the rude and inhuman ejaculation of the nobly-formed specimen, whose inner soul must, she felt, be far more hideous than the stricken lad's outward being, since it could so cruelly taunt one on whom the hand of God had been placed in wisdom.
"Perhaps not 'a pity,' Kittie, darling," replied she, as she quickened her steps in order to overtake the boy. "We will try to find out whether it is or not, and you shall some day answer the question for yourself;" and she laid her hand gently upon the head of the poor little cripple, who had halted that he might get breath to proceed to his home. She was almost startled at the sweet yet sad face that was upturned to her gaze. There seemed such a depth of feeling in the blue eye, and such a calm and hallowed expression upon the pale features, that she hesitated for a moment, as if studying how to address herself to the lad. He was not like a common pauper, although the scanty rags scarcely covered his unsightly figure, and the old hat served only to keep the scorching sun from the very top of his head. He had not asked for money, and he shrunk away from the touch of the lady as if there were degradation in it, and leaned upon his crutch, with the sweet yet reproachful look still fixed upon her.
Perhaps it was a consciousness of the blessed sympathy that welled up from her motherly heart that relaxed his features into a half smile, and moved him to a half glad, half sad emotion; perhaps the memory of as dear a face that once beamed upon him with the same holy tenderness, stirred the long-time quiet depths within his young bosom, and sent forth the tear that lay upon his thin cheek! At any rate, the shyness and misery had vanished, and he stood intently gazing into the face of the lady until he seemed to have forgotten his misfortunes in the happiness of that one sacred moment. The gentle voice recalled him to a sense of his position, and he sighed heavily as she said, "Will you tell me where you live, my son? and may I sometimes go to see you with my little daughter?"