addressed to the cabby,
had been spoken to a stately female who stood in the portal before him.

Now however he caught sight of her, and not knowing exactly what was the
proper thing to do under the circumstances, stared at her.

"What do you say, young man?" inquired she, in a solemn voice.

"Oh," said the boy, "I didn't know it was you. I was telling Jim we had
come from the station in half an hour. You know we started at 6.2 by my
watch, and it's just 6.33 now. Would you like to see for yourself,
marm?" added he, preparing to unfasten the chain.

"I know what the time is, young man," replied she sternly; "and pray,
who is Jim?" she asked, looking down in solemn perplexity at this queer
boy.

"Oh, he's the driver is Jim, and he got inside, you know, and I've
driven nearly all the way up by myself; haven't I, Jim?"

"Come inside, sir," said the matron hurriedly, "and don't stand talking
to vulgar cabmen and calling them by their Christian names. Your name
is Charles Newcome, I suppose? Come this way."

Charlie followed her in, his enthusiasm rather damped at this somewhat
frigid greeting, and sorry in his heart he had not been allowed an
opportunity of bidding farewell to his friend the driver.

And now I could hear the little fellow's heart begin to beat quicker as
he found himself at length for the first time in his life inside a
public school. The rows of caps in the corridors, the distant hum of
voices through half-opened doors, the occasional shout from the
playground, and the fleeting vision of a master in cap and gown, all had
for him the deepest and most mysterious interest. As he sat waiting in
the matron's room while that worthy lady went to superintend the
bringing in of his luggage, his mind became full of wonderings and
misgivings. I who lay so near the seat of his emotions could tell what
was going on in his breast. He wondered if the pair of socks lying on
the table with a hole in each heel, which appeared to be waiting their
turn for mending, belonged to the son of the old lady he had met in the
train. He wondered if the footsteps in the passage belonged to the head
master, and whether that awful being was being fetched to punish him for
his crime of driving the cab. He wondered who the boy was who put his
head in at the door and drew it back again. With what reverential eyes
he followed that hero's retreating form, and how he hung on his
whistling.

When would _he_, he wondered,