edroom windows,
suggesting the idea, how very pleasant it would be, when the fruit was
ripe, to obtain it at so little trouble. Louis especially noticed the
sheltering trees, that grew to a great height close behind the house,
and the long shadows thrown by the evening sun across the smooth
green lawn.

While he was admiring the little prospect before him, a maid-servant,
assisted by the guard of the coach, appeared at the door, carrying
a black trunk, and behind followed another elderly servant, with a
carpet-bag and basket. It was very evident that another passenger
might be expected, and a few seconds more threw considerable light
on the doubt enveloping the expected personage. The glass door before
mentioned, opened into a low square hall, and at the further end, just
as the carpet-bag reached the garden gate, appeared a group, of which,
till it arrived at the door, little could be discerned but some white
frocks. Presently, however, a pleasant middle-aged gentleman came out,
holding by the hand a tearful-looking little boy, seemingly about nine
or ten years old. The shade of his cap was pulled down very far over
his forehead, but enough of his face was visible to betray some very
showery inclinations. Two little girls, one older and the other younger,
clung round him; the little one was weeping bitterly. When they reached
the gate, the gentleman shook the boy's hand, and gave him in charge
of the guard, to see him safely into a coach to convey him to
Ashfield House.

"No fear of that, sir," replied the guard, opening the coach door,
and putting in the bag and basket. "I daresay these young gentlemen
would let him ride with them: they are for Dr. Wilkinson's."

"Indeed," said the gentleman, looking at Reginald, and then following
the jerk of the guard's thumb at Louis; "perhaps you will share your
fly with my son?" Reginald replied that they would be most happy. The
gentleman thanked him, and turning to his little boy, who was hugging
his youngest sister at the moment, said cheerfully, "Well, Charles,
this is pleasant; here are some school-fellows already. You will have
time to make friends before you reach the doctor's. Come, my boy."

Charles had burst into a torrent of fresh tears, and sobbing his
"Good-byes," got into the coach very quickly.

"Come, come, you mustn't be a baby," said his father, squeezing both
his hands; and he shut the coach door himself.

"Good-bye, Charlie," said the little girls.

"