t?

Not in the least. He lay there thinking fiercely, only troubled by the
idea of what he would do as soon as he had made his plunge penniless
into that dense black cloud--the future.

But there was no lifting of the black curtain. He could see his way to
the office to bid Pringle good-bye. After that all was hidden.

At the end of a quarter of an hour he jumped up and began to dress,
while Sam lay with his back to him fast asleep, or pretending.

It did not matter, for he did not want to speak to him; and after
dressing, and duly noting that there was only a scratch or two, no
swelling about his face, he went down with his bag of books to the
breakfast-room, to read as usual for an hour before his uncle and aunt
came down.

In the hall he encountered the cook, who had to "do" that part of the
housework, and she rose from her knees to wish him so hearty a
good-morning, that a lump rose in Tom's throat, there was a dimness in
his eyes, and his hand went out involuntarily for a silent good-bye.

To his surprise a pair of plump arms were flung round him, and he
received two hearty kisses, and then there was a warm whisper in his
ear--

"Don't you mind a bit, my dear. You didn't deserve it; and as for Mr
Sam, he's a beast."

"Thank you, cook," said Tom huskily, "thank you. Good-bye."

"What! Oh no, it ain't good-bye neither, my dear. They'd like me to
go, and so I won't. I'll stop just to spite them, so there!"

Cook went off to seize a door-mat, carry it out on the front steps, and
then and there she banged it down, and began to thump it with the head
of the long broom, as if in imagination she had Sam beneath her feet.

"She didn't understand me," said Tom to himself, as he hurried into the
breakfast-room, feeling that after all it would be very painful to go,
but not shaken in his determination.

"Morning, Mr Tom," said Mary, who looked bright and cheerful in her
clean print dress, as she made pleasant morning music by rattling the
silver spoons into the china saucers. "Ain't it a nice morning? The
sun's quite hot."

"Yes, a beautiful morning," said Tom sadly, as he gave the girl a
wistful look, before going into a corner, sitting down and opening
_Tidd's Practice_ for what his cousin called a grind.

Then with a sigh he went on reading, giving quite a start when Mary had
finished her preparations for breakfast, and came to whisper--

"Cook ain't going, sir; she says she wouldn't go and leave