left alone. He took his bag and looked around, then,
seeing the notice, "Left Luggage Office," he acted upon impulse, and
left his portmanteau there, after which he went out into the streets.
He had missed the connection at Bristol, and, the later train having
been delayed, it was now past ten o'clock. He had bought some
sandwiches on his way, so he did not feel hungry. But he was terribly
depressed and lonely. The traffic of the city was subsiding somewhat,
but still the rush and roar of the great northern metropolis stunned
and bewildered him. Presently he came to the Town Hall, which stood in
a great square not far from the station. Around him were trams, cabs,
and a hurrying multitude of people. This was life--life in a great
city! It was utterly different from what he had expected; and it was
bitterly cold. A damp fog hung over the city, the air was depressing,
and the streets were black with slimy mud. Still, the thought that
more than half a million of people were around him was wonderful to
him. He was in the heart of the manufacturing North, where poor
friendless boys had risen to position and power. That Town Hall stood
for something--stood for the government of this great metropolis. It
seemed to him that London could be nothing compared with this, and in
his ignorance he felt as though Manchester were the centre of the
world. He wandered on and on, passing through St. Anne's Square until
he came to Market Street. Here all was a blaze of light, even although
the crowd had largely departed. It was all fascinating, bewildering.
He felt strangely afraid, and he did not know what to do. A tram
stopped just in front of him, and he noticed the words, "Rusholme,
Oxford Road." And, again acting on impulse, he entered the tram. A
few minutes later the conductor came to him.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

Paul had not the slightest idea, and looked at him in a kind of dazed
way.

"Where do you want to get out?" went on the conductor. "We only go as
far as the tramway shed at Rusholme. Do you want to go as far as that,
or where?"

"I don't know," said Paul. "Where do we pass?"

"Why, we go up Oxford Road, and pass Owens College."

"That's it," cried Paul eagerly; "I want to get out at Owens College."

The conductor eyed him curiously, but he was a man of large experience,
and took very little notice of the vagaries of his passengers.

"Here you are," he said at length, as the tram