was obliged to
furnish me with a thorough rig, selected from my Cousin Ralph's surplus
stock. One thing pleased me in this better than all else! It was that,
instead of having my outer raiment composed, as previously, of Ralph's
cast-off garments, I was measured for an entirely new suit of my own.
This alone was an unexpected gratification; for I hated the fact of my
being compelled to wear Ralph's discarded clothes. It had been gall and
wormwood to me. I loathed myself for having to put them on, and loathed
him as the malicious instrument that caused me to be so degraded--the
more especially as my cousin would in "a friendly sort of way"
frequently allude to the circumstance of the clothes having been
formerly his, calling attention to my want of care in treating them
properly!

All things have an end, fortunately, and the morning arrived at last
when I had to bid farewell to the villa on the outskirts of Islington
where I had passed so many miserable years. Molly, the servant-maid,
was the only one in the house with whom I parted with any regret; and it
was with feelings considerably more exultant than sad that I accompanied
my uncle to the City in the omnibus which he always took to his place of
business, that convenient vehicle passing by in its route the corner of
the road where uncle lived.

Arriving at the London Bridge terminus, Uncle George ensconced me and my
box in a train, bound for Beachampton, at which retired and out-of-the-
way little watering-place was situated Dr Hellyer's school.

Handing me then my railway ticket and a two-and-sixpenny "tip," Uncle
George gave me a hearty hand-shake, wishing me good-bye and a safe
journey.

"Mind you be a good boy, and pay attention to your lessons," he said.
"And--listen, Martin--should you ever be in any serious trouble, you can
write and let me know. But mind," added Uncle George, "you mustn't
forget, my boy, to address your letters to my office, and not to the
villa; for your Aunt Matilda might not like the idea, you know, eh!"

"All right, Uncle George," I answered. "I will remember where to write
to, never fear. Good-bye now, and thank you for all your kindness to
me."

"Good-bye, Martin!" he echoed; and, as the train moved slowly out of the
station, I really felt quite sorry to part with him; but, as the panting
engine proceeded on its way, going faster as it emerged from the
labyrinthic terminus on to the open line, dragging the groaning,
whee