cosily over his bedroom fire he resolved that it should be as the earl had said.  But when he got up on the following morning, and stood shivering as he came out of his bath, he could not feel the same confidence.  “Of course I shall go to her,” he said to himself, “and make a plain story of it.  But I know what her answer will be.  She will tell me that she cannot forget him.”  Then his feelings towards Crosbie were not so friendly as they had been on the previous evening.

He did not visit the Small House on that, his first day.  It had been thought better that he should first meet the squire and Bell at Guestwick Manor, so he postponed his visit to Mrs Dale till the next morning.

“Go when you like,” said the earl.  “There’s the brown cob for you to do what you like with him while you are here.”

“I’ll go and see my mother,” said John; “but I won’t take the cob to-day.  If you’ll let me have him to-morrow, I’ll ride to Allington.”  So he walked off to Guestwick by himself.

He knew well every yard of the ground over which he went, remembering every gate and stile and greensward from the time of his early boyhood.  And now as he went along through his old haunts, he could not but look back and think of the thoughts which had filled his mind in his earlier wanderings.  As I have said before, in some of these pages, no walks taken by the man are so crowded with thought as those taken by the boy.  He had been early taught to understand that the world to him would be very hard; that he had nothing to look to but his own exertions, and that those exertions would not, unfortunately, be backed by any great cleverness of his own.  I do not know that anybody had told him that he was a fool; but he had come to understand, partly through his own modesty, and partly, no doubt, through the somewhat obtrusive diffidence of his mother, that he was less sharp than other lads.  It is probably true that he had come to his sharpness later in life than is the case with many young men.  He had not grown on the sunny side of the wall.  Before that situation in the Income-tax Office had fallen in his way, very humble modes of life had offered themselves,—­or, rather, had not offered themselves for his acceptance.  He had endeavoured to become an usher at a commercial seminary, not supposed to be in a very thriving condition; but he had been, luckily, found deficient in his arithmetic.  There had been some chance of his going into the leather-warehouse of Messrs Basil and Pigskin, but those gentlemen had required a premium, and any payment of that kind had been quite out of his mother’s power.  A country attorney, who had known the family for years, had been humbly solicited, the widow almost kneeling before him with tears, to take Johnny by the hand and make a clerk of him; but the attorney had discovered that Master Johnny Eames was not supposed to be sharp, and would have none of him.  During those days, those gawky, gainless, unadmired days, in which he