"Here I am, Uncle Stephen. I am Ronald. How do you do?"
"Bless my soul!" said the old man. "Let me look at you."
He drew the boy round so as to get the light on his face.
"'Pon my word!" he said, "you are not the sort of little chap I
expected. You're uncommon like your father."
Ronald flushed with pride. Mr. Harvey came into the parlor and had a
little talk with Mrs. Anderson.
"I am indeed indebted to you, madam," he said. "This boy is so
surprisingly like my nephew that I could almost fancy the years had gone
back and I was teaching the little chap to take his first gallop.--Your
father was game on a horse, my lad."
"Yes, sir," said Ronald, nodding his head. "'Spect so, sir," he added.
The old gentleman chucked him under the chin and uttered a laugh.
"Well, boy, we must be going," he said. "We mustn't keep your kind
friend. You will let me know, madam, for what I am indebted to you."
"For nothing, sir," said Mrs. Anderson. A crimson color rushed into her
face. "It has been a labor of love to help this dear little fellow. I
could take no money; you mustn't even mention it, sir."
"Well, madam--well--I respect your proper pride, and anything I can
do---- By the way--eh, Ronald?--there's no saying, but I might invite
your friend down to the country.--Do you know Somersetshire, madam?"
"I used to know it very well when I was a girl.
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