Wikkey | Page 5

nurse, if I were to keep the boy here? The doctor says he is dying, so that it would not be for long, and I would take all the trouble I could off your hands. I have not made up my mind about it yet, but of course I could not decide upon anything without first consulting you."
The answer, though a little stiff, was more encouraging than might have been expected from the icy severity of Mrs. Evans' manner. (Was she also making her protest on the side of common sense against a lurking desire to keep Wikkey?)
"If it's your wish, Mr. Lawrence, I'm not the one to turn out a homeless boy. It's not quite what I'm accustomed to, but he seems a quiet lad enough--poor child!" the words came out in a softer tone; "and as you say, sir, it can't be for long."
Much relieved, Lawrence sped away; it was still early, and there would be time to get this matter settled before he went down to the office if he looked sharp; and so sharp did he look that in a little more than ten minutes he had cleared the mile which lay between his lodgings and that of his cousin Reginald Trevor, senior curate of S. Bridget's East, and had burst in just as the latter was sitting down to his breakfast after morning service. And then Lawrence told his story, his voice shaking a little as he spoke of Wikkey's strange devotion to himself, and of the weary watch which had no doubt helped on the disease which was killing him, and he wound up with--
"And now, Reg, what is a fellow to do? I suppose I'm a fool, but I can't send the little chap away!"
The curate's voice was a little husky too.
"If that is folly, commend me to a fool," he said: and then, after some moments of silent thought--"I don't see why you should not keep the boy, Lawrence; you have no one to think of except yourself, unless, indeed, Mrs. Evans--"
"Oh, she's all right!" broke in his cousin; "I believe she has taken a fancy to Wikkey."
"Then I do not see why you should not take your own way in the matter, provided always that the boy's belongings do not stand in the way. You must consider that, Lawrence; you may be bringing a swarm about you, and Wikkey's relations may not prove as disinterested as himself."
"But that is just the beauty of it; he hasn't any belongings, for I asked him; beyond paying a shilling for a bed to some hag he calls Skimmidge, he seems to have no tie to any living creature."
"That being so," said Reginald, slowly; "and if you do not feel alarmed about your spoons, I don't see why you should not make the little soul happy, and"--he added with a smile--"get a blessing too, old fellow, though I doubt you will bring a sad time on yourself, Lawrence."
Lawrence gave a sort of self-pitying little shrug, but did not look daunted, and his cousin went on--
"Meanwhile, I think the hag ought to be made aware of your intentions; she will be looking out for her rent."
"Bother! I forgot all about that," exclaimed Lawrence, "and I haven't a minute to spare; I must race back to set the boy's mind at rest, and its close upon nine now. What's to be done?"
"Look here, I'll come back with you now, and if you can get me Mrs. Skimmidge's address I'll go and settle matters with her and glean any information I can about the boy: she may possibly be more communicative to me than to you. I know the sort, you see."
As Lawrence encountered Wikkey's penetrating gaze, he felt glad that his mind was made up; and when the question came in a low, gasping voice, "I say, guvner, are you going to send me away?" he sat down on the end of the sofa and answered:
"No, Wikkey, you are going to stay with me."
"Always?"
Lawrence hesitated, not knowing quite what to say.
"Always is a long time off; we needn't think about that; you are going to stay with me now;" and then feeling some compensation necessary for the weakness of his conduct, he added very gravely, "that is, Wikkey, if you promise to be a good boy and to mind what I and Mrs. Evans say to you, and always to speak the truth."
"I'll be as good as ever I know how," said Wikkey, meekly; "and I reckon I sha'n't have much call to tell lies. Yes, I'll be good, guvner, if you let me stop;" and again the black eyes were raised to his in dog-like appeal, and fixed on his face with such intensity that Lawrence felt almost embarrassed, and glad to escape after eliciting the