set him to cleaning out the stables, which it
appeared was to be a part of his regular work; then there were the pigs
to feed again, and at four o'clock the milk-cans to fetch. Oh, how tired
Geoff was getting of the lane to the station! And the day did not come
to an end without his getting into terrible disgrace for not having
rinsed out the cans with boiling water the night before, though nobody
had told him to do it. For a message had come from London that the cans
were dirty and the milk in danger of turning sour, and that if it
happened again Farmer Eames would have to send his milk elsewhere. It
was natural perhaps that he should be angry, and yet, as no one had
explained about it to Geoff, it seemed rather hard for him to have to
take the scolding. _Very_ hard indeed it seemed to him--to proud Geoff,
who had never yet taken in good part his mother's mildest reprimands.
And big boy though he was, he sobbed himself to sleep this second night
of his new life, for it did seem too much, that when he had been trying
his very best to please, and was aching in every limb from his unwonted
hard work, he should get nothing but scolding. And yet he knew that he
was lucky to have fallen into such hands as Farmer Eames's, for, strict
as he was, he was a fair and reasonable master.

"I suppose," thought Geoff, "I have never really known what hardships
were, though I did think I had plenty to bear at home."

What would Elsa have said had she heard him?

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XI.

"HOOT-TOOT" BEHIND THE HEDGE.

That first day at the farm was a pretty fair specimen of those that
followed. The days grew into weeks and the weeks into one month, and
then into two, and Geoff went on with his self-chosen hard and lonely
life. The loneliness soon came to be the worst of it. He got used to the
hardships so far, and after all they were not very terrible ones. He was
better taken care of than he knew, and he was a strong and healthy lad.
Had he felt that he was working for others, had he been cheered by
loving and encouraging letters, he could have borne it all contentedly.
But no letters came, no answer to his note to Vicky begging her to
write; and Geoff's proud heart grew prouder and, he tried to think,
harder.

"They would let me know, somehow, I suppose, if there was anything much
the matter--if--mamma had not got much better yet." For even to himself
he would not allow the possibility of anything worse than her not