It seemed in every way remarkable that a young man of Richard Kendrick's
sort should devote himself to a poor and crippled child as he was doing
now. Not a gesture or act of his was lost upon the girl who watched.
Clearly he was taking all possible pains to please and interest his
little protege, and he was doing it in a way which showed much skill,
suggesting previous practice in the art. This was no such interest as he
had shown in Gordon and Dorothy Gray, whose beauty had been so powerful
an appeal to his fancy. There was nothing about this child to take hold
upon any one except his helplessness and need. But Richard was as gentle
with him, as patient with his awkward attempts at holding the light rod
in the proper position for fishing, and as full of resources for
entertaining him when the fish--if there were any--failed to bite, as he
could have been with a small brother of his own.
There was another thing which it was impossible not to note: Never had
Roberta seen this young man in circumstances so calculated to impress
upon her the potency of his personality. Unconscious of the scrutiny of
any other human being, wholly absorbed in the task of making a small boy
happy, he was naturally showing her himself precisely as he was.
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