rified and tugged at Nanny's arm to make her go
faster.

"Whyever on earth are you dancing along like a bear for? Do you want to
go somewhere, you fidgety boy?" said Nurse, pulling Michael to her side
with a jerk.

"Oh, Nanny, there's a man following us, who got out of our bus."

"Well, why shouldn't he get out? Tut-tut. Other people besides you want
to get out of buses. I shan't ever take you to the pantomime again, if
you aren't careful."

"Well, I will be careful," said Michael, who, perceiving the lamp in
their front hall, recovered from his fright and became anxious to
propitiate Nanny.

"So I should think," muttered Nurse. "Tut-tut-tut-tut-tut." Michael
thought she would never stop clicking her tongue.

About this time with the fogs and the rain and the loneliness and
constant fear that surrounded him, Michael began to feel ill. He worried
over his thin arms, comparing them with the sleek Stella's. His golden
hair lost its lustre and became drab and dark and skimpy. His cheeks
lost their rose-red, and black lines ringed his large and sombre blue
eyes. He cared for little else but reading, and even reading tired him
very much, so that once he actually fell asleep over the big Don
Quixote. About two hundred pages were bent underneath the weight of his
body, and the book was taken away from him as a punishment for his
carelessness. It was placed out of his reach on top of the bookcase and
Michael used to stand below and wish for it. No entreaties were well
enough expressed to move Nurse; and Don Quixote remained high out of
reach in the dust and shadows of the ceiling. Nurse grew more and more
irrational in her behaviour and complained more and more of the
neuralgia to which she declared she was a positive martyr. Annie went
away into the country because she was ill and a withered housemaid took
her place, while the tall thin house in Carlington Road became more grim
every day.

Then a lucky event gave Michael a new interest. Miss Caroline Marrow
began to teach him the elements of Botany, and recommended all the boys
to procure window-boxes for themselves. Michael told Nurse about this;
and, though she muttered and clicked and blew a great deal, one day a
bandy-legged man actually came and fitted Michael's window-sills with
two green window-boxes. He spent the whole of his spare time in prodding
the sweet new mould, in levelling it and patting it, and filling in
unhappy little crevices which had been overloo