n
never sufficiently acknowledge. Pray, ma'am, where is my boy?" Our
missis says, "Cobbs has the dear child in charge, sir. Cobbs, show
Forty!" Then he says to Cobbs, "Ah, Cobbs, I am glad to see _you_! I
understood you was here!" And Cobbs says, "Yes, sir. Your most
obedient, sir."

I may be surprised to hear Boots say it, perhaps; but Boots assures me
that his heart beat like a hammer, going up-stairs. "I beg your pardon,
sir," says he, while unlocking the door; "I hope you are not angry with
Master Harry. For Master Harry is a fine boy, sir, and will do you
credit and honour." And Boots signifies to me, that, if the fine boy's
father had contradicted him in the daring state of mind in which he then
was, he thinks he should have "fetched him a crack," and taken the
consequences.

But Mr. Walmers only says, "No, Cobbs. No, my good fellow. Thank you!"
And, the door being opened, goes in.

Boots goes in too, holding the light, and he sees Mr. Walmers go up to
the bedside, bend gently down, and kiss the little sleeping face. Then
he stands looking at it for a minute, looking wonderfully like it (they
do say he ran away with Mrs. Walmers); and then he gently shakes the
little shoulder.

"Harry, my dear boy! Harry!"

Master Harry starts up and looks at him. Looks at Cobbs too. Such is
the honour of that mite, that he looks at Cobbs, to see whether he has
brought him into trouble.

"I am not angry, my child. I only want you to dress yourself and come
home."

"Yes, pa."

Master Harry dresses himself quickly. His breast begins to swell when he
has nearly finished, and it swells more and more as he stands, at last, a
looking at his father: his father standing a looking at him, the quiet
image of him.

"Please may I"--the spirit of that little creatur, and the way he kept
his rising tears down!--"please, dear pa--may I--kiss Norah before I go?"

"You may, my child."

So he takes Master Harry in his hand, and Boots leads the way with the
candle, and they come to that other bedroom, where the elderly lady is
seated by the bed, and poor little Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, is fast
asleep. There the father lifts the child up to the pillow, and he lays
his little face down for an instant by the little warm face of poor
unconscious little Mrs. Harry Walmers, Junior, and gently draws it to
him,--a sight so touching to the chambermaids who are peeping through the
door, that one of them calls out, "It's a