rs learned to trace
The day's disasters in his morning's face."

Sleep came at last, and brought too brief forgetfulness. It was not till
the dull grey light of morning was glimmering through the blinds that
Mr. Bultitude awoke to his troubles.

The room was bitterly cold, and he remained shivering in bed for some
time, trying to realise and prepare for his altered condition.

He was the only one awake. Now and then from one of the beds around a
boy would be heard talking in his sleep, or laughing with holiday
glee--at the drolleries possibly of some pantomime performed for his
amusement in the Theatre Royal, Dreamland--a theatre mercifully open to
all boys free of charge, long after the holidays have come to an end,
the only drawbacks being a certain want of definiteness in the plot and
scenery, and a liability to premature termination of the vaguely
splendid performance.

Once Kiffin, the new boy, awoke with a start and a heavy sigh, but he
cried himself to sleep again almost immediately.

Mr. Bultitude could bear being inactive no longer. He thought, if he got
up, he might perhaps see his misfortunes shrink to a more bearable, less
hopeless scale, and besides, he judged it prudent, for many reasons, to
finish his toilet before the sleepers began theirs.

Very stealthily, dreading to rouse anyone and attract attention in the
form of slippers, he broke the clinking crust of ice in one of the
basins and, shuddering from the shock, bathed face and hands in the
biting water. He parted his hair, which from natural causes he had been
unable to accomplish for some years, and now found an awkwardness in
accomplishing neatly, and then stole down the dark creaking staircase
just as the butler in the hall began to swing the big railway bell which
was to din stern reality into the sleepy ears above.

In the schoolroom a yawning maid had just lighted the fire, from which
turbid yellow clouds of sulphurous smoke were pouring into the room,
making it necessary to open the windows and lower a temperature that was
far from high originally.

Paul stood shaking by the mantelpiece in a very bad temper for some
minutes. If the Doctor had come in then, he might have been spurred by
indignation to utter his woes, and even claim and obtain his freedom.
But that was not to be.

The door did open presently, however, and a little girl appeared; a very
charming little maiden indeed, in a neat dark costume relieved by a
fresh wh