My poor mistress has been fretting night and
day over it. Whatever is she to do?"

"Trust herself to me," said Bernard valiantly.

Dolly laughed. "Why, you ain't sixteen, Mr Bernard, and not done with
your schooling. But, as parson said, so strange-like, on Sunday, for
his text--`the only son of his mother and she was a widow'--you're all
she has left."

When Mrs Gray and her son were alone she told Bernard the whole history
of their misfortunes. An unfortunate speculation on the part of their
trustee had left them almost penniless. "There is nothing left to us,"
she said, "but this little cottage and seventeen pounds in the cash-box.
But, Bernard," she added, "I grieve over nothing but your school. You
had such a brilliant future, and so many friends."

"Oh, but there were to be so many new fellows next term--nearly all my
chums were to leave, so don't grieve over that," answered Bernard,
ignoring her words about his future. Then he explained his
"experiment."

"I have decided," he said, "to sweep a crossing."

"Sweep a crossing! Ah, that is what so many people say, but they would
never do it when it came to the point."

"It's what I mean to do," said Bernard quietly. "It's an inspiration,
Mother, I assure you. You say this cottage is freehold, is it not, and
worth--how much?"

"I have been offered one hundred pounds for it, but it is too near the
railway, and too much out of repair to be valuable."

"We shall do better than that. Do you know how many people go down this
road daily to the station since all those new villas were built?"

Mrs Gray shook her head.

"Five hundred, and the place is growing like--well, like old boots.
Now, Mother, this is my scheme. You know how bad the approach to the
station is. You know, also, that the new asphalt path from the new
blocks of houses comes to our very garden gate. Well, people can come
so far without muddying their boots. Now, our garden abuts almost on
the railway-platform, so I propose sweeping a path straight across from
the road, putting up a gate at each end, and saving people five hundred
yards of quagmire, and a good five minutes in time, and a lot of
swear-words, and my charge for all these improvements will be one
penny!"

The next morning, at half-past seven, the new path of forty yards was
swept from end to end, some of the palings were pulled down near the
railway-bank, and another small path swept up to the platform.

An old door