“But where is everybody?  And why is there no fire?” said Benjamin impatiently.  “It’s beastly cold.”

“Father hopes to get a bread, coal and meat ticket to-morrow, dear.”

“Well, this is a pretty welcome for a fellow!” grumbled Benjamin.

“I’m so sorry, Benjy!  If I’d only known you were coming I might have borrowed some coals from Mrs. Belcovitch.  But just stamp your feet a little if they freeze.  No, do it outside the door; grandmother’s asleep.  Why didn’t you write to me you were coming?”

“I didn’t know.  Old Four-Eyes—­that’s one of our teachers—­was going up to London this afternoon, and he wanted a boy to carry some parcels, and as I’m the best boy in my class he let me come.  He let me run up and see you all, and I’m to meet him at London Bridge Station at seven o’clock.  You’re not much altered, Esther.”

“Ain’t I?” she said, with a little pathetic smile.  “Ain’t I bigger?”

“Not four years bigger.  For a moment I could fancy I’d never been away.  How the years slip by!  I shall be Barmitzvah soon.”

“Yes, and now I’ve got you again I’ve so much to say I don’t know where to begin.  That time father went to see you I couldn’t get much out of him about you, and your own letters have been so few.”

“A letter costs a penny, Esther.  Where am I to get pennies from?”

“I know, dear.  I know you would have liked to write.  But now you shall tell me everything.  Have you missed us very much?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Benjamin.

“Oh, not at all?” asked Esther in disappointed tones.

“Yes, I missed you, Esther, at first,” he said, soothingly.  “But there’s such a lot to do and to think about.  It’s a new life.”

“And have you been happy, Benjy?”

“Oh yes.  Quite.  Just think!  Regular meals, with oranges and sweets and entertainments every now and then, a bed all to yourself, good fires, a mansion with a noble staircase and hall, a field to play in, with balls and toys—­”

“A field!” echoed Esther.  “Why it must be like going to Greenwich every day.”

“Oh, better than Greenwich where they take you girls for a measly day’s holiday once a year.”

“Better than the Crystal Palace, where they take the boys?”

“Why, the Crystal Palace is quite near.  We can see the fire-works every Thursday night in the season.”

Esther’s eyes opened wider.  “And have you been inside?”

“Lots of times.”

“Do you remember the time you didn’t go?” Esther said softly.

“A fellow doesn’t forget that sort of thing,” he grumbled.  “I so wanted to go—­I had heard such a lot about it from the boys who had been.  When the day of the excursion came my Shabbos coat was in pawn, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Esther, her eyes growing humid.  “I was so sorry for you, dear.  You didn’t want to go in your corduroy coat and let the boys know you didn’t have a best coat.  It was quite right, Benjy.”