rted school-boy
friends would receive on reaching home. Yes, he pictured it all to
himself as he stood watching the falling rain, and the hot tears
gushed from his eyes, and, laying his head upon the window sill, he
burst into uncontrollable sobs.

How long he remained thus he knew not, but he was roused from his
painful sense of desolation by a gentle hand being laid upon his
bowed head, and a kind voice saying, "My poor boy! I am very sorry you
are left behind; there, there, do not cry, brighten up, and come into
the parlour with Maud and me," and Mrs Price wiped the tears from his
face, and brushing back his hair, imprinted a kiss upon his forehead.

This kindness only made Leslie feel more inclined to cry, but
repressing his tears, and placing one hand in Mrs Price's, he said, as
they walked to the parlour, "You are very kind, ma'am, and your voice
is as soft as my own mamma's; thank you very much."

"There, that is a brave boy; you must not let Maud see you cry."

"No, but I could not help it, I did so long to go home, and it is such
a disappointment to be kept at school."

"My dear child, the world and life are full of disappointments."

"Are they, ma'am?"

"Yes, and we must all try to meet our share with a brave heart."

"Are they all as bitter as mine?"

"Some are much worse, my boy."

"I will try to be brave, ma'am; but I really did try to put the
linchpin back."

Maud was delighted to have a companion and playfellow who could be
with her all day, and was soon engaged in planning various excursions
to different, but favourite scenes in the neighbourhood.

"We will spend one long day," she said, "all by ourselves; we will get
up very early in the morning, and cook shall fill a basket with nice
things to eat; then we will row down the river until we reach the
wood, in which we will roam about all day, having our dinner under the
boughs of some large tree, and be for all the world like gipsies; will
that not be capital?" and Maud clapped her hands with glee.

"Yes," said Leslie, "and I will take a long stick, which shall be my
lance, and I will pretend to be a knight who has rescued a beautiful
lady from a cruel band of robbers."

"But who is to be the beautiful lady?" inquired Maud.

"Why, you, of course, for I think you very beautiful."

"Suppose real robbers do come," said Maud, opening her large eyes to
the full extent at the bare supposition.

"Oh, I would protect you," said Leslie, with