"I'll take him now," and Adah put out her hands; but Willie refused to
go, and clung closer to Mr. Stanley, who said, laughingly: "You see that
I am preferred. He is too heavy for you to hold. Please trust him to me,
while you get the rest you need."
And Adah yielded to that voice as if it were one which had a right to
say what she must do, and leaning back against the window, rested her
tired head upon her hand, while Irving carried Willie to his seat beside
the doctor! There was a slight sneer on the doctor's face as he saw the
little boy.
"You don't like children, I reckon," Irving said, as the doctor drew
back from the little feet which unconsciously touched his lap.
"No, I hate them," was the answer, spoken half-savagely, for at that
moment a tiny hand was deliberately laid on his, as Willie showed a
disposition to be friendly. "I hate them," and the little hand was
pushed rudely off.
Wonderingly the soft, large eyes of the child looked up to his.
Something in their expression riveted the doctor's gaze as by a spell.
There were tears in the baby's eyes, and the pretty lip began to quiver
at the harsh indignity. The doctor's finer feelings, if he had any, were
touched, and muttering to himself, "I'm a brute," he slouched his riding
cap still lower down upon his forehead, and turning away to the window,
relapsed into a gloomy reverie.
As they drew near to Albany, another piercing shriek from Willie arose
even above the noise of the train. The paroxysms of pain had returned
with such severity that the poor infant's face became a livid purple,
while Adah's tears dropped upon it like rain. Again the sympathetic
women gathered around, again Dr. Richards, aroused from his uneasy
sleep, muttered invectives against children in general and this one in
particular, while again Irving Stanley hastened to the rescue, his the
ruling mind which overmastered the others, planning what should be done,
and seeing that his plans were executed.
"You cannot go on this morning. Your little boy must have rest and
medical advice," he said to Adah, when at last the train stopped in
Albany. "I have a few moments to spare. I will see that you are
comfortable. You are going to Snowdon, I think you said. There is an
acquaintance of mine on board who is also bound for Snowdon. I might--"
Irving Stanley paused here, for certain doubts arose in his mind,
touching the doctor's willingness to be troubled with strangers.