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"No white clothes?" he asked.
"Did you want him to have some?"
"No. But I thought you would."
"I have ordered three suits to be made for him," she admitted, flus.h.i.+ng a little. "They will be very plain and will launder beautifully. He will wear them only on special occasions. Do you mind?"
"Well, not on those conditions," he agreed reluctantly.
They went to a shoe shop, and Bob became the richer for leather sandals, canvas shoes, and various other footwear, some of it undeniably fine.
Burns took one little black slipper into his hand.
"I wonder what Bob's grandmother would say to that," he observed in a whisper.
Ellen Lessing regarded its mate. Her lashes hid her eyes, but her lip quivered and he saw it. The salesman was busy with Bob. Burns laid his hand for an instant on hers. She looked up, and a smile struggled with the tears.
A toy shop came last. Here Bob was in an ecstasy. His companions walked up and down the aisles, following his eager steps. Mrs. Lessing would have filled his arms, but she found the way obstructed.
"He may have the train of cars," Burns consented. "But they must be cars he'll have to pull about for himself. No, not the trotting horse, nor the trolley on the track, nor any other of the mechanical stuff. I'll get him that dandy little tool-chest and that box of building blocks, but that's enough."
"The mechanical toys are of the best, sir," suggested the salesman.
"They won't break except with pretty rough handling."
"That's bad," Burns a.s.serted. "The quicker they broke, the less objection I'd have to 'em. It's a wonder the modern child has a trace of resource or inventiveness left in him. Teach him to construct, not to destroy, then you've done something for him."
"Isn't he rather young for tools?" Mrs. Lessing was turning over a small saw in her hands, feeling its sharp teeth with a premonitory finger.
"There are gauze and bandages in the office." He laughed at her expression as she laid down the saw.
"You won't object to that box of tin soldiers?" she asked.
"Decidedly. You don't want to spoil him at the start. For a boy who never had a toy in his life he's acquired enough now to turn his head.
Come away, Mrs. Lessing--flee temptation. Come, Bobby boy." And Burns led the way.
Bob, astride of a marvellous rocking-horse taller than himself, was like to weep. Mrs. Lessing went to him. He whispered something in her ear.
She came back to Burns.
"Doctor Burns," said she, "every boy has a rocking-horse. He's just the age to enjoy it. Surely it won't hazard his inventiveness: it will develop it. He'll ride all over the country, as you do in the Green Imp."
"What's the price?"
"It's not costly and it's a very good one."
Burns inquired the price again; this time he asked the salesman. Then he spoke low:
"Fifteen dollars seems 'not costly' to you, I suppose. Think of Bob yesterday, with not a toy to his name."
"That's why I want to give him one to-day."
"He'll be just as happy riding a stick--as soon as he forgets this."
"He won't forget it. Look at his eyes."
"You're looking at his eyes all the time. That's what undoes you."
He had to look away from her eyes then himself, or he felt quite suddenly that he, too, would have been undone. He had resisted the entreaty in women's eyes many times, but not always, despite the reputation he held for indifference.
"Doctor Burns, won't you give me this one pleasure? You've really been quite firm all the morning."
She was smiling, but he had himself in hand again and he was blunt with her. "Bob's bachelor's child now," he said. "He must be trained according to bachelors' ideas. Come, you know it's out of reason to give the youngster any more to-day. Be sensible."
They followed him out of the store, Bob's hand held fast in hers.
Somehow, they both looked very young as they stood outside the shop window, gazing back at the marvellous display within. He felt as if he were being rather cruel to them both. This was absurd, of course, when one considered the box of blocks, the train of cars and the toolkit. The child had enough playthings already to send him out of his head. Burns drove away rapidly to get out of range of other windows which seemed filled with rocking-horses to-day.
He looked down at Bob.
"Happy, little chap?" he asked.
Bob nodded. His arms clasped the red train but he was not looking at it.
"Like the cars?"
Bob nodded. His wide sailor hat obscured his face. Burns could see only the tip of the small nose.
"You'll have a splendid time with those blocks, won't you?"
Again the nod, but no reply.
"The hammer's pretty nice, too, isn't it?"
Once more the dumb answer. But the silence seemed odd, for Bob had long since lost his fear 'of these companions.
"Look up here, Bob."
Reluctantly the child obeyed. Burns caught one fleeting glimpse of wet black lashes. One big tear was slowly stealing down the pale little cheek.
"What's the matter, old man?"
No reply.
Burns looked at Ellen Lessing behind Bob's back. She did not meet his glance. She was looking at the boy. It struck him that her profile made the most enchanting outline he had ever seen. He tried to steel his heart against them both. He knew his theory was right; he now had the chance to put it into practice.
The Green Imp turned a corner to the right. They were not yet out of the city, and at the next block the car turned another corner, also to the right. At the end of another block the Imp, swerved once more--to the right. This brought them back to the wide street which led to the shopping district they had lately left. With silent pa.s.sengers the Imp threaded its way to the toy shop. In front of it Burns stopped the car.
He got out and went in and came out, the big rocking-horse in the arms of the salesman who followed him.
He looked up at their faces. Bob's was one wide-eyed countenance of incredulous joy. The other's--if he had seen there satisfaction at having brought a man to terms he felt he should have despised her; but that was not what he saw.
There was, by planning carefully, just room to wedge the rocking-horse in at Mrs. Lessing's feet without encroaching on the steering-gear. As they drove off, Bob was bending over and gently, stroking the animal's splendid black mane, with little chuckles and gurgles of joy. Once more Burns looked at Ellen Lessing behind Bob's back.