ng down one on each side of a small table, Captain
Knowlton leaning across it and reading the bill of fare aloud for my
benefit.

'I think I will have roast turkey,' I said, after prolonged consideration,
and I accordingly had it, with the accompaniment of sausage and bread
sauce, to say nothing of the sweets and the ice which followed. But
even what Captain Knowlton described as luncheon, and what I regarded as
a kind of king of dinners, was eclipsed by what came afterwards, for we
were driven to a theatre, where a comic opera was being played; and at
seven o'clock that evening a very tired and sleepy boy, with his right
hand tightly clenched on a half-sovereign in his jacket pocket, was
deposited on the steps of the house in Acacia Road.

During the next few weeks Captain Knowlton was a frequent visitor,
while, for my own part, I wished that he would come every day. One
afternoon he arrived in the rain and stayed to tea.

'Now, Jack,' he said, setting down his empty cup, 'I should like to hear
you read.'

But as I was bringing one of our small collection of books from the
sideboard, he called me away.

'No, none of that,' he cried, with a laugh; 'something you have never
seen before. Try the newspaper.'

Although I appeared to win approval by my reading of the extremely
uninteresting leading article, he shook his head at the sight of my
handwriting, whilst he seemed to be astounded by my total ignorance of
Latin and French.

'The fact is,' he said, 'it is high time you went to boarding-school!'

Before he left the house that afternoon he had another private
conversation with Aunt Marion, and a week or two later he arrived with
the announcement that 'everything had been arranged.'

'Windlesham has been very strongly recommended to me,' he explained.
'The Reverend Matthew Windlesham, to give him his full title.'

'Has he a living?' inquired Aunt Marion.

'No, but he has a capital house, with a large garden and a meadow, at a
place called Castlemore.'

'Where is that?'

'About a hundred miles from London. Windlesham has a wife and five
daughters, and at present there are only six or seven pupils. As Jack is
rather backward, it will suit him better than a larger school.'

So everything was decided, and I fancy that Aunt Marion looked forward
to my departure with a satisfaction equal to my own--it could scarcely
have been greater. Boys and girls were at that time an unknown quantity
to us, as were most of