"Can God?" said David.
At that Dr. Lavendar's face suddenly shone. "David," he said, "the
greatest thing in the world is to know that God is always beginning
again!"
But David had turned to the window to watch a prowling cat upon a
roof; and then, alas, it was time to start.
"Well," said Dr. Lavendar, as, hand in hand, they walked to the big,
roaring place where the cars were, "Well, David, to-morrow we shall be
at home again! You sit down here and take care of my bag while I go
and get the tickets."
David slid sidewise on to the slippery wooden settee. He had nothing
to say; again he felt that bleak sinking right under his little
breast-bone; but it stopped in the excitement of seeing Mrs. Richie's
brother coming into the waiting-room! There was a young lady at his
side, and he piloted her across the big, bare room, to the very settee
upon which David was swinging his small legs.
"I must see about the checks, dear," he said, and hurried off without
a glance at the little boy who was guarding Dr. Lavendar's valise.
The sun pouring through the high, dusty window, shone into David's
eyes. He wrinkled his nose and squinted up at the young lady from
under the visor of his blue cap. She smiled down at him, pleasantly,
and then opened a book; upon which David said bravely, "You're
nineteen. I'm seven, going on eight."
"What!" said the young lady; she put her book down, and laughed. "How
do you know I am nineteen, little boy?"
"Mrs. Richie's brother said so."
She looked at him with amused perplexity. "And who is Mrs. Richie's
brother?"
David pointed shyly at the vanishing figure at the end of the waiting-
room.
"Why, no, dear, that's my father."
"I know," said David; "he's Mr. Pryor, Mrs. Richie's brother. He
comes and stays at our house."
"Stays at your house? What on earth are you talking about, you funny
little boy! Where is your house?"
"O' Chester," said David.
The young lady laughed and gave him a kind glance. "You've made a
mistake, I think. My father doesn't know Mrs. Richie."
David had nothing to say, and she opened her book. When Mr. Pryor
returned, hurrying to collect the bags and umbrellas, David had turned
his back and was looking out of the window.
It was not until they were in the train that Alice remembered to speak
of the incident. "Who in the world is Mrs. Richie?" she demanded
gayly, "and where is Old Chester?"