ands of miles away, like mine are. When Alice is better,
you will be able to go home. And it will help your mother if she thinks
you are almost as happy as if you could go now."

Soon Miss Ware came to tell Bertie how sorry she was for him.

"After all," said she, smiling down on the two boys, "it is an ill
wind that blows nobody good. Poor Tom has been expecting to spend his
holidays alone, and now he will have a friend with him--Try to look on
the bright side, Bertie, and to remember how much worse it would have
been if there had been no boy to stay with you."

"I can't help being disappointed, Miss Ware," said Bertie, his eyes
filling with tears.

"No; you would be a strange boy if you were not. But I want you to try
to think of your poor mother, and write her as cheerfully as you can."

"Yes," answered Bertie; but his heart was too full to say more.

The last day of the term came, and one by one, or two by two, the boys
went away, until only Bertie and Tom were left in the great house. It
had never seemed so large to either of them before.

"It's miserable," groaned poor Bertie, as they strolled into the
schoolroom. "Just think if we were on our way home now--how different."

"Just think if I had been left here by myself," said Tom.

"Yes," said Bertie, "but you know when one wants to go home he never
thinks of the boys that have no home to go to."

The evening passed, and the two boys went to bed. They told stories to
each other for a long time before they could go to sleep. That night
they dreamed of their homes, and felt very lonely. Yet each tried to be
brave, and so another day began.

This was the day before Christmas. Quite early in the morning came the
great box of which Bertie's mother had spoken in her letter. Then, just
as dinner had come to an end, there was a peal of the bell, and a voice
was heard asking for Tom Egerton.

Tom sprang to his feet, and flew to greet a tall, handsome lady, crying,
"Aunt Laura! Aunt Laura!"

And Laura explained that she and her husband had arrived in London only
the day before. "I was so afraid, Tom," she said, "that we should
not get here until Christmas Day was over and that you would be
disappointed. So I would not let your mother write you that we were on
our way home. You must get your things packed up at once, and go back
with me to London. Then uncle and I will give you a splendid time."

For a minute or two Tom's face shone with delight. Then he caugh