uch as a word. Paul thought Stephen didn't seem to care much whether
he went or stayed, and he was dazzled by Miss Trevor's charm and the
lure of books and knowledge she held out to him.

"I'll go, I guess," he said, with a long sigh.

Miss Trevor clasped him close to her and kissed him maternally. Paul
kissed her cheek shyly in return. He thought it very wonderful that he
was to live with her always. He felt happy and excited--so happy and
excited that the parting when it came slipped over him lightly. Miss
Trevor even thought he took it too easily and had a vague wish that he
had shown more sorrow. Stephen said farewell to the boy he loved
better than life with no visible emotion.

"Good-bye, Paul. Be a good boy and learn all you can." He hesitated a
moment and then said slowly, "If you don't like it, come back."

"Did you bid good-bye to your rock people?" Miss Trevor asked him with
a smile as they drove away.

"No. I--couldn't--I--I--didn't even tell them I was going away. Nora
would break her heart. I'd rather not talk of them anymore, if you
please. Maybe I won't want them when I've plenty of books and lots of
other boys and girls--real ones--to play with."

They drove the ten miles to the town where they were to take the train
the next day. Paul enjoyed the drive and the sights of the busy
streets at its end. He was all excitement and animation. After they
had had tea at the house of the friend where Miss Trevor meant to
spend the night, they went for a walk in the park. Paul was tired and
very quiet when they came back. He was put away to sleep in a bedroom
whose splendours frightened him, and left alone.

At first Paul lay very still on his luxurious perfumed pillows. It was
the first night he had ever spent away from the little seaward-looking
loft where he could touch the rafters with his hands. He thought of it
now and a lump came into his throat and a strange, new, bitter longing
came into his heart. He missed the sea plashing on the rocks below
him--he could not sleep without that old lullaby. He turned his face
into the pillow, and the longing and loneliness grew worse and hurt
him until he moaned. Oh, he wanted to be back home! Surely he had not
left it--he could never have meant to leave it. Out there the stars
would be shining over the harbour. Stephen would be sitting at the
door, all alone, with his violin. But he would not be playing it--all
at once Paul knew he would not be playing it. He wo