As long back
as he could remember, all beautiful sights had awakened this ache,
this longing--

"O, that I were where I would be!
Then would I be where I am not;
For where I am I would not be,
And where I would be, I cannot."

It seemed to him that these bright beings on the stage had broken
through the barriers, had stepped beyond the flaming ramparts, and
were happy. Their horseplay, at which George laughed so
immoderately, called to Taffy to come and be happy, too; and when
Jack the Giant-killer changed to Jack in the Beanstalk, and when in
the Transformation Scene a real beanstalk grew and unfolded its
leaves, and each leaf revealed a fairy seated, with the limelight
flashing on star and jewelled wand, the longing became unbearable.
The scene passed in a minute. The clown and pantaloon came on, and
presently Sir Harry saw Taffy's shoulders shaking, and set it down
to laughter at the harlequinade. He could not see the child's face.

But, perhaps, the queerest event of the evening (when Taffy came to
review his recollections) was this: He must have fallen into a stupor
on leaving the theatre, for when he awoke he found himself on a couch
in a gas-lit room, with George beside him, and Sir Harry was shaking
him by the collar, and saying, "God bless the children, I thought
they were in bed hours ago!" A man--the same who had talked about
racehorses that afternoon--was standing by the table, on which a
quantity of cards lay scattered among the drinking-glasses; and he
laughed at this, and his laugh sounded just like the rustling of
paper. "It's all very well--" began Sir Harry, but checked himself
and lit a candle, and led the two boys off shivering to bed.

The next morning, too, had its surprises. To begin with, Sir Harry
announced at breakfast that he must go and buy a horse. He might be
an hour or two over the business, and meanwhile the boys had better
go out into the town and enjoy themselves. Perhaps a sovereign
apiece might help them.

Taffy, who had never in his life possessed more than a shilling, was
staring at the gold piece in his hand, when the door opened, and Sir
Harry's horse-racing friend came in to breakfast and nodded
"Good-morning."

"Pity you're leaving to-day," he said, as he took his seat at a table
hard by them.

"My revenge must wait," Sir Harry answered.

It seemed a cold-blooded thing to be said so carelessly.
Taffy wondered if Sir Harry's searc