y with a sudden access of caution.

"To London."

Christopher began to scramble up into the carriage and was
unceremoniously hauled down.

"Manners, Christopher. Mrs. Moss is waiting to say good-bye."

Now, Mrs. Moss had been very kind to the little waif and taken him to
her motherly childless heart, and in spite of her excitement over this
wonderful event, or because of it, she could not refrain from a few
tears. Jim was not indifferent to the fact--any more than he had been
to the lark's song, but he secretly thought it very inconsiderate of
her to cloud this extraordinary adventure with anything so depressing
as tears. He was the more aggrieved as against his will, against all
reason and all tradition of manliness, he found objectionable salt
drops brimming up in his own eyes. A culminating point was reached,
however, when Mrs. Moss fairly embraced him. It should be stated that
on occasions and in private Jim had no sort of objection to being
cuddled by Mrs. Moss, who was a comfortable, pillowy sort of person.

The ordeal was over at last and he was clambering up into the carriage
when Mrs. Moss bethought her he had had no tea.

Mr. Aston protested they were going to stop at Basingstoke, but the
good woman insisted on provisioning the boy with a wedge of cake and
tucking a clean handkerchief of her own into his pocket.

"We shall sleep at Basingstoke, and I'll send back his clothes by
post," said Mr. Aston. "No doubt we can get him some sort of temporary
outfit there."

Jim, who had been secretly afraid he would be relegated to the back
seat with the groom, breathed a sigh of relief as Mr. Aston mounted to
his place. That gentleman apparently understood the innermost soul of
the boy, for he gravely asked Mr. Stapleton to find room for a
companion, and then with a toss of their proud heads Castor and Pollux
moved off. Mr. Aston raised his hat courteously to Mrs. Moss, and Jim,
observing, made an attempt to remove his own dingy little cap, a
performance everyone took as a matter of course untill he had gone,
when Mrs. Moss remembered it and exclaimed to her husband: "Didn't I
always say, Joseph, he wasn't like the rest of them?"

But Joseph only said "Umph," and went in doors.

"We will telegraph to Aymer from Basingstoke," said Mr. Aston as they
started, and after that there was silence.

The monotonous click-clack of the horses' feet lulled the tired child
into blissful drowsiness. He had had too many up