scenes and sights, that he watched from the carriage window, occupied his
attention pretty fully.

But this time it was quite different. His mother's sweet, sad farewell was
still sounding in his ears; and as the train rushed along on its way, he
knew that it was bearing him farther and farther away from her, and from
the home where he had lived so long. He could hardly have explained his
own feelings; only a very dreary aching was in his heart; and as he
thought of the strange new place, where he was going, and then of the
miles and miles of land and sea, that would soon lie between himself and
his father and mother, he felt very strange and desolate, and you would
hardly have recognized the grave, serious-looking face as Arthur Vivyan's.

Perhaps it was that expression that drew the attention of an old
gentleman, who was sitting opposite to him. At any other time, Arthur
would have been inclined to be amused at this old gentleman; for he came
into the carriage, bringing so many parcels and wraps, that for some
little time he was stowing them away, talking all the while to nobody in
particular, and finishing every sentence with "Eh?"

"Going to school, my boy--eh?" he asked at length, after he had looked at
Arthur's mournful face for some little time.

Arthur did not feel much inclined to talk just then, so he only said "No;"
and then remembering that, in fact, he was to go to school while he was
living at his aunt's, he was obliged to say, "At least, yes."

"'No' and 'yes' both; not quite sure--eh?" asked the old gentleman.

Then Mr. Vivyan turned round, and explained that his son was going to live
with his aunt, and that he would go to school from her house.

"Oh, that's it--eh? Fine times for you then, young man. When I was a boy
things were different with me, I can tell you. Hundred boys where I was;
and I was one of the little fellows, who had to make it easy for the big
ones. Up at six in the morning--coldest winter mornings. Never had a
chance of getting near the fire; never went home for the winter holidays.
How would you like that--eh?"

"I don't suppose I should like it at all," said Arthur. But he thought in
his own mind, that his case was not much better.

After a few more remarks from his old friend opposite, when he saw him
pull his cap over his face and settle himself to sleep, he was more
pleased than otherwise.

Poor little Arthur! He thought he was feeling desolate enough; and as he
sat by