Here is a long
time before you; and you will get to like something else just as well.
Papa wanted to be a soldier, you remember, and could not; and he is as
happy as ever he can be, now that he is a shop-keeper in London. Did you
ever see anybody merrier than my father is? I never did. Come! cheer up,
Hugh! You will be very happy somehow."

Phil kissed him; and when Hugh looked up in surprise, Phil's eyes were
full of tears.

"Now I have a good mind to ask you," said Hugh, "something that has been
in my mind ever since."

"Ever since when?"

"Ever since I came to Crofton. What could be the reason that you were
not more kind to me then?"

"I! not kind?" said Phil, in some confusion. "Was not I kind?"

"No. At least I thought not. I was so uncomfortable,--I did not know
anybody, or what to do; and I expected you would show me, and help me. I
always thought I could not have felt lonely with you here; and then when
I came, you got out of my way, as if you were ashamed of me, and you did
not help me at all; and you laughed at me."

"No; I don't think I did that."

"Yes, you did, indeed."

"Well, you know, little boys always have to shift for themselves when
they go to a great school----"

"But why, if they have brothers there? That is the very thing I want to
know. I think it is very cruel."

"I never meant to be cruel, of course. But--but--the boys were all ready
to laugh at me about a little brother that was scarcely any better than
a girl:--and consider how you talked on the coach, and what ridiculous
hair you had,--and what a fuss you made about your money and your
pocket,--and how you kept popping out things about Miss Harold, and the
girls, and Susan."

"You _were_ ashamed of me, then."

"Well, what wonder if I was?"

"And you never told me about all these things. You let me learn them all
without any warning, or any help."

"To be sure. That is the way all boys have to get on. They must make
their own way."

"If ever little Harry comes to Crofton," said Hugh, more to himself than
to Phil, "I will not leave him in the lurch,--I will never be ashamed of
him. Pray," said he, turning quickly to Phil, "are you ashamed of me
still?"

"Oh, no," protested Phil. "You can shift for yourself,--you can play,
and do everything like other boys, now. You----"

He stopped short, overcome with the sudden recollection that Hugh would
never again be able to play like other boys,--to be like them in
strength, an