continued Rupert with relentless naivete; "but if a
jay-bird like that can get on, why couldn't I?"

There was no doubt that the master here pointed out the defectiveness
of Rupert's logic and the beneficence of patience and study, as became
their relations of master and pupil, but with the addition of a certain
fellow sympathy and some amusing recital of his own boyish experiences,
that had the effect of calling Rupert's dimples into action again. At
the end of half an hour the boy had become quite tractable, and, getting
ready to depart, approached his sleeping brother with something
like resignation. But Johnny's nap seemed to have had the effect of
transforming him into an inert jelly-like mass. It required the joint
exertions of both the master and Rupert to transfer him bodily into the
latter's arms, where, with a single limp elbow encircling his brother's
neck, he lay with his unfinished slumber still visibly distending his
cheeks, his eyelids, and even lifting his curls from his moist forehead.
The master bade Rupert "good-night," and returned to his room as the boy
descended the stairs with his burden.

But here Providence, with, I fear, its occasional disregard of mere
human morality, rewarded Rupert after his own foolish desires. Mrs.
Tripp was at the foot of the stairs as Rupert came slowly down. He saw
her, and was covered with shame; she saw him and his burden, and was
touched with kindliness. Whether or not she was also mischievously aware
of Rupert's admiration, and was not altogether displeased with it, I
cannot say. In a voice that thrilled him, she said:--

"What! Rupert, are you going so soon?"

"Yes, ma'am---on account of Johnny."

"But let me take him--I can keep him here to-night."

It was a great temptation, but Rupert had strength to refuse, albeit
with his hat pulled over his downcast eyes.

"Poor dear, how tired he looks."

She approached her still fresh and pretty face close to Rupert and laid
her lips on Johnny's cheek. Then she lifted her audacious eyes to his
brother, and pushing back his well-worn chip hat from his clustering
curls, she kissed him squarely on the forehead.

"Good-night, dear."

The boy stumbled, and then staggered blindly forward into the outer
darkness. But with a gentleman's delicacy he turned almost instantly
into a side street, as if to keep this consecration of himself from
vulgar eyes. The path he had chosen was rough and weary, the night was
dark, and