Doc on instinct is ready to steady her if she were to fall, hand close to her shoulder just in case, but once she doesn't he lightly rests his hands in his pockets, eyes on the young boy who's holding tightly to her skirts.

Especially when he sounds so very sad about his situation.

"Well then perhaps we'll have to go have a talk with young Master Jack about that," he says, as he squats down to get to eye level with the boy and offers him a hand.

"And who might you be, son?"

It doesn't matter than he's not much older than six, if six at all. Doc's always looked at his students (or any children, for that matter) as young gentlemen in training.