CUT.

The two lads went off towards the village, Dick in the highest of glee,
and chattering and questioning about everything he saw, Will getting
more and more quiet and lower of spirit as he thought of the ordeal that
he had to face.

For he had asked this young stranger, whom he had never seen before, to
come home and share his meal, and all in the frankness of his young
hospitable feelings. In fact, he would have given him his own meal with
the greatest of pleasure; but it had all been done without a thought of
Aunt Ruth and Uncle Abram.

"Where do you live?" said Dick suddenly.

"Up at the end there; the white cottage."

"What! with the pretty garden and the flowers?" cried the boy. "I know
Nor'-nor'-west Cottage. Father said he wished we could have it when we
looked round."

"Yes, that's my home," said Will. "Uncle is very fond of his garden,
and takes great pains with it."

"Uncle?" said Dick. "Do you live with your uncle?"

"And aunt," replied Will quietly; and there was so much meaning in his
tone that his companion did not ask the question upon his lips about
father and mother.

"I like gardens," said Dick; "but we can't grow anything in our back
garden in town. I did try some vegetable-marrows, but the cats
scratched up some, and the smoke and blacks killed the others. Anything
will grow down here, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes, if you don't plant it just where the west wind cuts. It is so
fierce sometimes. Let's go round by the back, and I can take you
through our garden."

"All right!" cried Dick eagerly, and he did not notice the deepening of
the colour in his new friend's face, for Will felt guilty of a
subterfuge. He was really alarmed as to the result of his invitation,
and its effect upon his aunt, so he hoped by going round by the back to
find his old uncle in the garden, according to his custom, planting,
weeding, and fumigating his plants, whether they needed it or no.

Fortune favoured Will, for after a climb round by the narrow alley he
let his companion in by the little top gate into the rough terrace
garden on the steep slope of the cliff--a quaint little place full of
rocks and patches of rich earth, and narrowed stony paths, but one blaze
of bright colour, and full of promise of fruit.

"Why, how comical!" said Dick. "We're higher than the roof of your
house!"

"Yes; it's all so steep here," replied Will. "Oh! here's uncle."

He turned down a narrow path, where, pipe in