Grayson's death, was now seated making herself a new cap.

"A workhouse boy, Maria?" she said, letting her work fall upon her
knees, and looking over the top of her spectacles.

"Yes; and master's took him into the drawing-room."

"Oh! very well," said Mrs Millett tartly. "Master's master, and he has
a right to do what he likes; but if there's anything I can't abear in a
house it's a boy in buttons. They're limbs, that's what they are;
regular young imps."

"Going to keep a page!" said Maria, whose eyes looked a little less
round.

"Why, of course, girl; and it's all stuff."

"Well, I don't know," said Maria thoughtfully. "There's the
coal-scuttles to fill, and the door-bell to answer, a deal more than I
like."

"Yes," said Mrs Millett, snipping off a piece of ribbon viciously; "I
know. That boy to find every time you want 'em done, and a deal less
trouble to do 'em yourself. I can't abear boys."

While this conversation was going on in the housekeeper's room,
something of a very different kind was in progress in the drawing-room,
where the daughter looked up from the letter she was writing, and gazed
wonderingly at the boy. For her father pushed the little fellow in
before him, and said: "There!" in a satisfied tone, and looked from one
to the other.

"Why, papa!" said Helen, after looking pleasantly at the boy.

"Yes, my dear, that's him. There he is. From this hour my experiment
begins."

"With this boy?" said Helen.

"Yes, my dear, shake hands with him, and make him at home."

The doctor's sweet lady-like daughter held out her hand to the boy, who
was staring about him at everything with wondering delight, till he
caught sight of an admirably drawn water-colour portrait of the doctor,
the work of Helen herself, duly framed and hung upon the wall.

The boy burst into a hearty laugh, and turned to Helen, running to her
now, and putting his hand in hers. "Look there," he cried, pointing
with his left hand; "that's the old chap's picture. Ain't it like him!"

The doctor frowned, and Helen looked troubled, even though it was a
compliment to her skill; and for a few moments there was a painful
silence in the room.

This was however broken by the boy, who lifted Helen's hand up and down,
and said in a parrot-like way--

"How do you do?"

Helen's face rippled over with smiles, and the boy's brightened, and he
too smiled in a way that made him look frank, handsome, and singularly
attractiv