sunk on his breast said something. "What?" said Dr. Lavendar.

David mumbled a word or two in a voice that seemed to come from his
stomach; it sounded like, "Like you best." But Dr. Lavendar did not
hear it, and David ran swiftly back to the rabbits. There Helena found
him, gazing through two large tears at the opal-eyed pair behind the
wooden bars. Their white shell-like ears wavered at her step, and they
paused in their nibbling; then went on again with timid, jewel-like
glances in her direction.

Helena, at the sight of those two tears, knelt down beside the little
boy, eager to be sympathetic. But he did not notice her, and by and by
the tears dried up. After she had tried to make him talk;--of Dr.
Lavendar, of school, of his old home;--without drawing anything more
from him than "yes ma'am," or "no ma'am," she gave it up and waited
until he should be tired of the rabbits. The sun was warm, the smell
of the crushed dock leaves heavy in the sheltered corner behind the
barn; it was so silent that they could hear the nibbling of the two
prisoners, who kept glancing at them with apprehensive eyes that
gleamed with pale red fires. David sighed with joy.

"What are their names?" he said at last in a low voice.

"They haven't any names; you can name them if you like."

"I shall call them Mr. and Mrs. Smith," he said with decision. And
then fell silent again.

"You came to Old Chester in the stage with Mr. Pryor," she said after
a while; "he told me you were a very nice little boy."