e younger men, "you can buy 'em for
yourself now. I'm blowed if I wouldn't have all the papers as comes
out if I was you."

"I did go to a shop onest," said the old man, "and I did ax, but they
didn't seem able to gi' me the right 'uns. 'I want pictur's o' the
snow and folks huntin' and that,' says I. 'Not this time o' year,'
says the young lady; 'them's in Christmas numbers.' 'That's what I've
bin used to,' says I. 'Well, we can order 'em for you,' says she, but
I couldn't mind the names. I knowed one did begin 'G--r--a--p--' so I
did ax if they had one about 'Grape--summat,' and they did give I the
_Gardener_--ah, that was what they did call it; but there weren't no
pictur's in it at all, only flowers and mowing machines, and
sich-like."

"Why, ye mean the _Graphic_" cried some one with a laugh; "no wonder
the maid couldn't make out what you was a-drivin' at."

But Giles did not heed him; he was gazing hungrily at the greasy pack
of cards which lay on the deal table.

"It d' seem a martal sight of time since I've had a game," he
exclaimed. "Light up, Jim; you and me 'ull jist have time for one
afore tea."

When the bell rang for this last-named meal Giles rose with the rest,
and was preparing to walk with them down the well-known stairs, when
he was astonished by receiving an invitation to tea with no less a
person than the matron herself.

He smoothed his hair with the palms of his hands, pulled up his
shirt-collar, and followed the messenger with an odd mixture of pride
and reluctance. It was no doubt highly gratifying to be thus honoured
before all his former mates, but he was conscious of a secret yearning
to sit down once more in the old place, and munch his allotted portion
of bread and cheese with a friend at either elbow.

The matron received him cordially.

"Come in, Mr. Maine, and sit down; I am glad to have an opportunity of
chatting with you. It would never do for you to have tea with the
others now, you know."

"No, to be sure," agreed Giles blankly.

"Well, and how are you, Mr. Maine? Most comfortable and happy, Mrs.
Tapper tells me."

"'E-es, mum," returned Giles mournfully.

"Sugar and milk, Mr. Maine?"

"Thankee, mum, I likes it best pure naked. I'd be thankful to 'ee,
mum, if ye wouldn't call me Mr. Maine; it don't seem naitral like."

"Perhaps not," agreed the matron, with a kindly laugh. "Well,
Giles--I'll say Giles, then--Giles, do you know that you are quite a
remarkable perso