n the idleness of his inactive mind. His mother was a widow; her dark
dress and black hood, and pale, over-worked face looked like it.
Besides, if the boy had had a father, of course he would have been down
to see him off. Probably there were sisters, too; the boy looked somehow
as if he had been brought up with sisters; but they would not have
followed him down to the station; they kissed him good-by at the
house-door, leaving it to his mother to see the very last of him. For be
had resolved to go forth into the world and make his fortune, not to
encumber his poor mother with his support any longer. He was going,
probably, to New York, to be a clerk or an errand-boy in some dry-goods
store, or banking-house, or insurance-office. Once a week--oftener,
perhaps--he would write home to his mother, sending his love to her and
to the girls, telling them how much he wanted to see them all again, but
that he was doing pretty well, and was working, and going to work, very
hard. He would be rich some day, and they should all come to New York
then and live in his house on Fifth Avenue!

Bressant, comfortably extended on his two seats, with his long future of
bodily case and indulgence opening before him--his freedom from all ties
to bind him to any spot, or necessities to compel him to any
labor--Bressant found that the thought of this innocent boy, going forth
into the world, with his green carpet-bag, his loving heart, his
assurance of being loved, his ambition to establish his mother and
sisters on Fifth Avenue, was becoming quite annoying to his mental
serenity. He would think of him no more, therefore, and, to aid himself
in this resolve, he closed his eyes, so as to avoid seeing him. Being
really somewhat weary after his manifold exertions and continued
sleeplessness, his eyes closed very naturally.

But the boy was not to be so easily got rid of. He almost immediately
turned round in his seat, and directed a steadfast gaze out of his gray
eyes at Bressant's reclining figure. Presently, he pronounced, in a low
voice, yet which was distinctly audible to the deaf man's ears, two
words, the effect of which was to make the other start up in his seat,
and stare about him in amazement and alarm.

The boy met his glance with great calmness and gentleness, and held out
his hand as if to grasp Bressant's.

"Was it you?" exclaimed the latter, bewildered. "How did you know that
name, and who are you?" As he spoke, he mechanically t