Miss Patten's School 



There in the cool green room stood my 

 cousin Ridley. He was a young man of 

 three-and-twenty, and I a child of six, but 

 we were fast friends, and he was my big 

 hero. He lifted me on to his knee and 

 patted my head. 



"O Ridley!" I said, and laid my head 

 against his waistcoat. 



'^ Well, boy, how are you? I thought I 

 must just come and see you, you know. 

 Place don't seem the same," he said, 

 gently pulling my ear, " without young 

 mischief teasing the life out of us." 



I don't think I said anything, but clung 

 to him with a rapture touched with despair. 

 Here was one precious living bit of home 

 that had not forgotten all about me, and he 

 would soon be going and leaving me alone 

 in the strange place with the dull forks and 

 spoons, and the three-times table, and the 

 lady who was not a bit like Mother or 

 Mary. My cousin turned my face up to 

 his, and I remember that he looked con- 

 cerned. 



"Come, tell us how you like being here, 

 Harry," he said ; but I could not, partly 

 because I was afraid Miss Patten would 

 hear, and partly because of the lump in my 

 throat. 



" Don't like being here at all, p'raps? 



102 



