Their
destination was Hampton, to take the boat for Havre. The man was to
return home with the chaise in the evening. The doctor was going on to
Caen, to deliver his dear little girl safely at school, and Harry was
going with them for a holiday. All the Carnegie children and their
mother, the servants and the house-dog, were out in the road to bid
Bessie a last good-bye; the rector and his wife were watching over the
hedge; and Miss Buff panted up the hill at the last moment, with fat
tears running down her cheeks. She had barely time for a word, Mr.
Carnegie always cutting short leave-takings. Bessie's nose was pink with
tears and her eyes glittered, but she was in good heart. She looked
behind her as long as she could see her mother, and Jack and Willie
coursing after the chaise with damp pocket-handkerchiefs a-flutter; and
then she turned her face the way she was going, and said with a shudder,
"It is a beautiful, sunny morning, but for all that it is cold."

"Have my coat-sleeve, Bessie," suggested Harry, and they both laughed,
then became quiet, then merry.

About two miles out of Hampton the travellers overtook little Christie
making the road fly behind him as he marched apace, a knapsack at his
back and his chin in the air.

"Whither away so fast, young man?" shouted the doctor, hailing him.

"To Hampton Theatre," shouted Christie back again, and he flourished his
hat round his head. Harry Musgrave repeated the triumphant gesture with
a loud hurrah. The artist that was to be had got that commission for the
new drop-scene at the theatre. His summons had come by this morning's
post.

The toil-worn, dusty little figure was long in sight, for now the road
ran in a direct line. Bessie wished they could have given him a lift on
his journey. Harry Musgrave continued to look behind, but he said
nothing. It is some men's fortune to ride cock-horse, it is some other
men's to trudge afoot; but neither is the lot of the first to be envied,
nor the lot of the last to be deplored. Such would probably have been
his philosophy if he had spoken. Bessie, regarding externals only, and
judging of things as they seemed, felt pained by the outward signs of
inequality.

In point of fact, little Christie was the happiest of the three at that
moment. According to his own belief, he was just about to lay hold of
the key that would open for him the outer door of the Temple of Fame.
After that blessed drop-scene that he was on his wa