cal a moment deprived of Henry's presence and help, Mrs. Knight
felt less keenly the pang of her own misfortune and that of her son.
Nevertheless, it was a night sufficiently tragic in Oxford Street.

Mr. Knight returned with Henry's two prizes--_Self-Help_ and _The
Voyage of the 'Fox' in the Arctic Seas_.

The boy had wakened once, but dozed again.

'Put them on the chair where he can see them in the morning,' Aunt Annie
suggested.

'Yes,' said the father, brightening. 'And I'll wind up his watch for
him.... Bless us! what's he been doing to the watch? What _is_ it,
Annie?

'Why did you do it?' Mr. Knight asked Tom. 'That's what I can't
understand. Why did you do it?'

They were alone together the next morning in the sitting-room. ('I will
speak to that young man privately,' Mr. Knight had said to the two women
in a formidable tone.) Henry was still in bed, but awake and reading
Smiles with precocious gusto.

'Did the kid tell you all about it, then?'

'The kid,' said Mr. Knight, marking by a peculiar emphasis his
dissatisfaction with Tom's choice of nouns, 'was very loyal. I had to
drag the story out of him bit by bit. I repeat: why did you do it? Was
this your idea of a joke? If so, I can only say----'

'You should have seen how he enjoyed them! It was tremendous,' Tom broke
in. 'Tremendous! I've no doubt the afternoon was terrible, but the
morning was worth it. Ask Henry himself. I wanted to give him a treat,
and it seems I gave you all one.'

'And then the headmaster!' Mr. Knight complained. 'He was very upset. He
told me he didn't know what they should do without Henry last night.'

'Oh yes. I know old Pingles. Pingles is a great wit. But seriously,
uncle,' said Tom--he gazed at the carpet; 'seriously----' He paused. 'If
I had thought of the dreadful calamity to the school, I would only have
bought half a pound.'

'Pah!' Mr. Knight whiffed out.

'It's a mercy we're all still alive,' murmured Tom.

'And may I ask, sir----' Mr. Knight began afresh, in a new vein,
sarcastic and bitter. 'Of course you're an independent member of
society, and your own master; but may I venture to ask what you were
doing in Hyde Park yesterday at eleven o'clock?'

'You may,' Tom replied. 'The truth is, Bollingtons Limited and me, just
me, have had a row. I didn't like their style, nor their manners. So the
day before yesterday I told them to go to the devil----'

'You told them to go to the----!'

'And I haven't