en, while her
admiring gaze roved over the apartment, but the shyer boy dared not
seat himself upon any of those handsome satin-covered chairs. He slunk
behind Molly, casting his eyes down and nervously twirling his cap.
For, little vagrant though he was, his street life had already taught
him that it was the correct thing for lads and men to bare the head in
the presence of a lady.

Now he did not know that this one simple action on his part did more
to interest Miss Lucy in him than an hour's argument would have done.
For the first time she observed that his hair was of a lovely color,
as Molly had suggested, and that after a good shampooing it would be
even beautiful in texture. From his hair to his eyes was not far; and
the fleeting glimpses she caught of them, as they timidly uplifted,
showed them a clear hazel. Long silky lashes swept the thin cheek
and--but it's better to go no further at present. There was too much
soil of the street upon the rest of the little face to make it
pleasing in Miss Lucy's sight. Besides, her dainty nose already
detected a peculiar odor, one unfamiliar to her home, and that in her
mind she designated as the "poor smell." Which was not surprising,
since not even Molly could have told when Towsley's ragged clothing
had been cleansed by soap and water.

To relieve herself, as well as him, the lady pointed to a carved,
wooden stool in the bay window, and Towsley went to it. The stool
could be washed and thus purified after contact with the child's dusty
garments, as the satin chairs could not be.

Another servant came in and placed a silver tray upon a table. The
tray bore a plate of fruit cake and some saucers of ice-cream; and at
sight of these luxuries Towsley's shyness almost disappeared. He was
such a very hungry little boy. He always had been hungry, for the
scraps which he picked up out of garbage barrels and at the back-doors
of houses were not very satisfying. He began to stare at the food in a
fascinated way that made Miss Lucy also stare, but at him. She had
never seen just such a look on anybody's face, and though it expressed
greediness it did not shock her, as she felt it ought to do. Because
it was so ill-bred!

Just then, while Towsley was watching the ice-cream begin to melt, the
portiere was again lifted and the maid re-entered, leading a fat,
fuzzy dog. She led him by a beautiful blue satin ribbon, and he
blundered along in a haphazard sort of way that was exceedin