it far nicer than all the good things he had had
in the Doctor's study on the previous night. Last night! Could it
really be last night? It seemed such a long, long while ago.

[Illustration: "He never uttered a word, but ate his breakfast, and
enjoyed it thoroughly."--WILTON SCHOOL, page 131.]

Meanwhile, Mr and Mrs Blewcome were conversing confidentially together
at the other end of the van; and, from what Harry could gather, this
appeared to be the state of the case:

The labours and responsibilities of the menagerie were becoming a
little too much for the proprietor and his wife. They could not afford
to pay a man to help, nor did they care to enter into partnership with
any one. They must pick up some lad who would do all sorts of odd
jobs, and require nothing more than his keep. Plenty of old clothes
were always to be found. And when Harry heard them congratulating
themselves on their "find," he knew they alluded to him, and that they
had marked out his future for him as a member of their enterprising
profession.

Shortly afterwards, they told him their plans, and what they wanted him
to do, and what they would do for him in return; and they spoke so
kindly, that poor, friendless, homeless Harry was thankful he had
fallen in with them, and began to feel a trifle happier.

When his father came home, he would be sure to search for him and find
him, of course. Harry flattered himself. Till then, what better could
he do than stay where he thought he should find kindness. And in this
last supposition he was right. First impressions go a long way. Harry
took to his patrons at once, and did everything they told him willingly
and obediently, though at times the drudgery lay very hard upon him.
But the excitement and freshness of his strange new life kept him up;
and, moreover, he had a home, and food, and clothes, such as they were;
and when he ran away from school, he never knew, or even dreamt, how he
should get these. So he must not mind the drudgery.

And Mr and Mrs Blewcome, in their turn, soon came to treat him quite as
a child of their own; so that one day, as they were rumbling along,
Harry (it is true, after numerous questionings) opened his heart to the
motherly Mrs Blewcome, and told her all his story.

But often at night he would lie awake for hours; realising then in the
quiet, when there was no stir to attract his thoughts, how utterly
lonely he was in the world, and his lips would send o