142 Turnasiade Cottage.

over a month ago, nearly. Besides, Mr. Hurst had
not been to him, as he was to me, the one earthly
friend, guide, teacher, everything. And I was not
going to begin judging people again after my old
fashion ; least of all, one who was so kind and good
to me as Master George.

The small bustle of the railway station, and of
beginning my first railway journey, served to change
the direction of my thoughts. The short bit of rail
was soon over, but not before I had begun to feel
so very tired that I thankfully obeyed Master
George’s command, and followed his luggage into
the little omnibus, while he ran on on foot.

He was waiting to receive me when the omnibus
drew up at the door of the lodging-house, and led
me into the parlour, and to the window beneath
which lay the sea, wide and blue and sparkling.

“There! is it what you expected?” he cried;
but a hard lump in my throat prevented my answer-
ing, for the sight recalled to me my master’s beauti-
ful descriptions of it, and his smiling promise that
some day, a long way off, we would go to Abercwm
together and see it.

“Reuben, my dear boy ; how is he ?”

Was it a dream, when I started round and saw
for a moment the tall, well-known figure in the
long buttoned-up coat! The room seemed to sway,