found that the meek old lady whom they hated
was about to be rescued from their clutches. On the whole, Paul felt
that this was the happiest day of his life. It was a satisfaction to
feel that the good fortune of his early friend was all due to his own
intercession.

He was able to take the cars to a point four miles distant from
Wrenville. On getting out on the platform he inquired whether there was
a livery stable near by. He was directed to one but a few rods distant.
Entering he asked, "Can you let me have a horse and chaise to go to
Wrenville?"

"Yes, sir," said the groom.

"Let me have the best horse in the stable," said Paul, "and charge me
accordingly."

"Yes, sir," said the groom, respectfully, judging from Paul's dress and
tone that he was a young gentleman of fortune.

A spirited animal was brought out, and Paul was soon seated in the
chaise driving along the Wrenville road. Paul's city friends would
hardly have recognized their economical acquaintance in the well-dressed
young man who now sat behind a fast horse, putting him through his best
paces. It might have been a weakness in Paul, but he remembered the
manner in which he left Wrenville, an unfriended boy, compelled to fly
from persecution under the cover of darkness, and he felt a certain
pride in showing the Mudges that his circumstances were now entirely
changed. It was over this very road that he had walked with his little
bundle, in the early morning, six years before. It seemed to him almost
like a dream.

At length he reached Wrenville. Though he had not been there for six
years, he recognized the places that had once been familiar to him. But
everything seemed to have dwindled. Accustomed to large city warehouses,
the houses in the village seemed very diminutive. Even 'Squire Benjamin
Newcome's house, which he had once regarded as a stately mansion, now
looked like a very ordinary dwelling.

As he rode up the main street of the village, many eyes were fixed
upon him and his carriage, but no one thought of recognizing, in
the well-dressed youth, the boy who had run away from the Wrenville
Poorhouse.

XXXV.

CONCLUSION.

At the very moment that Paul was driving through the village street,
Mr. Nicholas Mudge entered the Poorhouse in high spirits. Certainly
ill-fortune must have befallen some one to make the good man so
exhilarant.

To explain, Mr. Mudge had just been to the village store to purchase
some groceries. One of h