s dear Aunt Annie's bed. He had an extremely intelligent,
inquisitorial, and agnostical face, and a fair, curled head of hair,
which he scratched with one hand as Aunt Annie entered the room and held
the candle on high in order to survey him.

'Well?' inquired Aunt Annie firmly.

'Well?' said Tom Knight, determined not to commit himself, and waiting
wanly for a chance, like a duellist.

'What's all this noise for? I told you I specially wanted you to go to
sleep at once to-night.'

'Yes,' said Tom, staring at the counterpane and picking imaginary bits
off it. 'And you might have known I shouldn't go to sleep after _that_!'

'And here it's nearly midnight!' Aunt Annie proceeded. 'What do you
want?'

'You--you've left the comb in my hair,' said Tom. He nearly cried.

Every night Aunt Annie curled Tom's hair.

'Is it such a tiny boy that it couldn't take it out itself?' Aunt Annie
said kindly, going to the cot and extracting the comb. 'Now try to
sleep.' She kissed him.

'And I've heard burglars,' Tom continued, without moving.

'Oh no, you've not,' Aunt Annie pronounced sharply. 'You can't hear
burglars every night, you know.'

'I heard running about, and doors shutting and things.'

'That was Uncle Henry and me. Will you promise to be a good boy if I
tell you a secret?'

'I shan't _promise_,' Tom replied. 'But if it's a good secret I'll
try--hard.'

'Well, you've got a cousin, a little boy, ever so little! There! What do
you think of that?'

'I knew someone had got into the house!' was Tom's dispassionate remark.
'What's his name?'

'He hasn't any name yet, but he will have soon.'

'Did he come up the stairs?' Tom asked.

Aunt Annie laughed. 'No,' she said.

'Then, he must have come through the window or down the chimney; and he
wouldn't come down the chimney 'cause of the soot. So he came through
the window. Whose little boy is he? Yours?'

'No. Aunt Susan's.'

'I suppose she knows he's come?'

'Oh yes. She knows. And she's very glad. Now go to sleep. And I'll tell
Aunt Susan you'll be a good boy.'

'You'd better not,' Tom warned her. 'I don't feel sure. And I say,
auntie, will there come any more little boys to-night?'

'I don't think so, dear.' Aunt Annie smiled. She was half way through
the door, and spoke into the passage.

'But are you sure?' Tom persisted.

'Yes, I'm sure. Go to sleep.'

'Doesn't Aunt Susan want another one?'

'No, she doesn't. Go to sleep, I say.'

''Cause,