s a friend of my mother whom I
had been delighted to find in this out-of-the-way place; and Tom talked
very pleasantly to him, and I think liked him.

'What is he doing here, Jack?' he said. 'He does not look like the rest
of them.'

'He is a lay-preacher,' I said.

'Whatever in the world is a lay-preacher?' said Tom laughing.

I did not answer, but called his attention to little Jack, who was
running along the shore after his red cap, which had been carried off by
a gust of wind.

'That's his little boy,' I said, 'and my namesake; they lived in my
father's parish in London, and Mr. Christie and his wife adored my
mother. It was seeing her photograph on the wall of their room which
made them discover who I was.'

'What a splendid little fellow!' said Tom as the child came up to us.
'So you are Jack, are you?'

'Yes, I'm little Jack, and he's big Jack,' said the boy roguishly,
looking at me.

I was not surprised that Tom made friends very quickly with my little
favourite, for he was wonderfully fond of children, and many were the
games which he and the two children had together whilst I was at work.

Every evening Tom and I walked together, and we explored all the country
for miles around. Sometimes we went by train and walked back by the
cliffs. The train seemed to land us at each station in the midst of
fresh beauty, and I came to the conclusion that Yorkshire was indeed,
what I had always been told by my mother, the most beautiful county in
England.

'Now, Jack,' said Tom on Saturday morning, 'we'll have a really good day
to-morrow. You won't want to paint, will you?'

'No,' I said hurriedly, 'I don't paint on Sundays.'

'All right,' he said, 'it's much the best plan; you come fresher to it
on Monday. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." That old
couplet must have been made for you, Jack. Well, then, let's see, where
shall we go? Suppose we make a long day of it, and go to Scarborough. We
must see Scarborough before we go home, must we not? We will go by the
early train, and come back as late as we can. The worst of it is there
are not so many trains to choose from on Sunday, but I daresay we shall
find one that will suit'; and, without saying another word, he went off
to my lodging for a _Bradshaw_.

What was I to do? A few weeks ago a Sunday spent in pleasure would have
been just what I should have chosen, and many a time had Tom and I been
up the river on Sunday together. There was hardly