I've come back an
independent gentleman. I wonder whether Sally's altered."

I did not make any reply, but walked steadily on till I reached the
familiar gates leading into our yard, and through which I had seen the
laden van pass so many hundreds of times. There beyond it was the
soap-house with its barred window, the tall chimney, and, on looking
over, there were the usual litter of old and new boxes, while an
unpleasantly scented steam was floating out upon the evening air.

How strange and yet how familiar it all seemed! How old and shabby and
forlorn everything looked, and yet how dear! I wanted to creep in and
catch my mother in my arms, but something seemed to hold me back, so
that I dare not stir.

I walked straight by, with Tom following me slowly, looking across at
the opposite side of the road, and whistling softly, and as we walked on
I could see into the garden, and my heart gave a throb, for, instead of
being neat and well stocked as of old, everything appeared to have been
neglected--creepers had run wild, the apple and pear trees were covered
with long shoots, and tall thistles and nettles stood in clumps.

My heart seemed to stand still, and I hesitated no longer. My father
must be ill, I thought, or the garden in which he took so much pride
would never have been allowed to run wild like that.

"Tom," I said, "there's something wrong."

"Lor', no, Mas'r Harry, not there. Nothing's wrong, only that Sally's
left, and that's all right, ain't it?"

I did not answer, but, going to the yard gate, pushed it open, and the
hinges gave a dismal creak.

"Bit o' soap would not hurt them," said Tom sententiously, and he
followed me through the yard.

I peeped in at the old, familiar boiling-house, but though work had
lately been in progress there was no one there; so I went on to the back
door and was about to enter, but Tom laid his hand on my arm.

"Would you mind my going in first, Mas'r Harry?" he said softly. "I
know it ain't right, but I should like to go in just once--first."

I drew back and Tom stepped forward to go in, but as he raised his hand
to the latch he dropped it again and turned back to me.

"'Twouldn't be right, sir, for me to go afore you; and don't you think,
Mas'r Harry, now that you're a great, rich gentleman just come over from
foreign abroad, that it would be more genteel-like to go round to the
front and give a big knock afore you went in?"

"Well, let's go round to t