"I have a pair on."

"Of course; I don't doubt that. We must have you measured to-morrow for some boots fitter for the country than these. We have no London pavement here."

And so Mrs Watson went on, sometimes approving and sometimes criticising, till Hugh did not know whether to cry or to be angry.

After all the pains his mother and sisters had taken about his things, they were to be found fault with in this way!

When his box was emptied, and his drawer filled, Mrs Watson took him into the school-room, where the boys were at supper. Outside the door the buzz seemed prodigious, and Hugh hoped that, in such a bustle, n.o.body would notice him. Here he was quite mistaken. The moment he entered there was a hush, and all eyes were turned upon him, except his brother's. Phil hardly looked up from his book; but he made room for Hugh between himself and another boy, and drew the great plate of bread within reach. Mrs Watson saw that Hugh had his basin of milk; and he found it a good thing to have something to do while so many eyes were upon him. He felt that he might have cried if he had not had his supper to eat.

The usher sat at the top of the table, reading. Mrs Watson called his attention to Hugh; and Hugh stood up and made his bow. His face was red, as much with anger as timidity, when he recognised in him the pa.s.senger who had sat beside the coachman.

"Perhaps, Mr Carnaby," said Mrs Watson, "you will find something for this young gentleman to do, when he has had his supper, while the rest are learning their lessons. To-morrow he will have his own lessons; but to-night--"

"There is always the multiplication-table," replied Mr Carnaby. "The young gentleman is partial to that, I fancy."

Hugh reddened, and applied himself to his bread and milk.

"Never mind a joke," whispered Mrs Watson. "We won't plague you with the multiplication-table the first evening. I will find you a book or something. Meantime, there is a companion for you--I forgot that."

The good lady went down the room, and brought back a boy who seemed to be doing all he could to stop crying. He dashed his hand over his eyes every minute, and could not look anybody in the face. He had finished his supper, and was at a loss what to do next, as he had only arrived that morning, and did not know anybody at Crofton. His name was Tom Holt, and he was ten years old.

When they had told their names and ages, and where they came from, the boys did not know what to say next; and Hugh wished Phil would stop murmuring over his Sall.u.s.t and looking in the dictionary every minute; but Mrs Watson did not forget the strangers. She brought them Cook's Voyages out of the library, to amuse themselves with, on condition of their delivering the book to Mr Carnaby at bedtime.

The rest of the evening pa.s.sed away very pleasantly. Hugh told Holt a great deal about Broadstairs and the South Sea Islands, and confided to him his own hopes of being a sailor, and going round the world; and, if possible, making his way straight through China,--the most difficult country left to travel in, he believed, except some parts of Africa. He did not want to cross the Great Desert, on account of the heat. He knew something of what that was by the leads at home, when the sun was on them. What was the greatest heat Holt had ever felt? Then came the surprise. Holt had last come from his uncle's farm; but he was born in India, and had lived there till eighteen months ago. So, while Hugh had chattered away about the sea at Broadstairs, and the heat on the leads at home, his companion had come fourteen thousand miles over the ocean, and had felt a heat nearly as extreme as that of the Great Desert! Holt was very una.s.suming too. He talked of the heat of gleaning in his uncle's harvest-fields, and of the kitchen when the harvest-supper was cooking; owning that he remembered he had felt hotter in India. Hugh heaped questions upon him about his native country and the voyage; and Holt liked to be asked: so that the boys were not at all like strangers just met for the first time. They raised their voices in the eagerness of their talk, from a whisper so as to be heard quite across the table, above the hum and buzz of above thirty others, who were learning their lessons half-aloud. At last Hugh was startled by hearing the words "Prater", "Prater the second." He was silent instantly, to Holt's great wonder.

Without raising his eyes from his book, Phil said, so as to be heard as far as the usher,--

"Who prated, of Prater the second? Who is Prater the third?"

There was a laugh which provoked the usher to come and see whereabouts in Sall.u.s.t such a pa.s.sage as this was to be found. Not finding any such, he knuckled Phil's head, and pulled his hair, till Hugh cried out--

"O, don't, sir! Don't hurt him so!"

"Do you call that hurting? You will soon find what hurting is, when you become acquainted with our birch. You shall have four times seven with our birch--Let us see,--that is your favourite number, I think."

The usher looked round, and almost everybody laughed.

"You see I have your secret;--four times seven," continued Mr Carnaby.

"What do you shake your head for?"

"Because you have not my secret about four times seven."

"Did not I hear your father? Eh?"

"What did you hear my father say? n.o.body here knows what he meant? And n.o.body need know, unless I choose to tell--which I don't.--Please don't teaze Phil about it, sir: for he knows no more about it than you do."

Mr Carnaby said something about the impertinence of little boys, as if they could have secrets, and then declared it high time that the youngsters should go to bed. Hugh delivered Cook's Voyages into his hands, and then bade Phil good-night. He was just going to put his face up to be kissed, but recollected in time that he was to leave off kissing when he went to school. He held out his hand, but Phil seemed not to see it, and only told him to be sure to lie enough on one side, so as to leave him room; and that he was to take the side of the bed next the window. Hugh nodded and went off, with Holt and two more, who slept in the same room.

The two who were not new boys were in bed in a minute; and when they saw Hugh wash his face and hands, they sat up in bed to stare. One of them told him that he had better not do that, as the maid would be coming for the light, and would leave him in the dark, and report of him if he was not in bed. So Hugh made a great splutter, and did not half dry his face, and left the water in the basin;--a thing which they told him was not allowed. He saw that the others had not kneeled down to say their prayers,--a practice which he had never omitted since he could say a prayer, except when he had the measles. He knew the boys were watching him; but he thought of his mother, and how she had taught him to pray at her knee. He hid himself as well as he could with the scanty bed-curtains, and kneeled. He could not attend to the words he said, while feeling that eyes were upon him; and before he had done, the maid came in for the candle. She waited; but when he got into bed, she told him that he must be quicker to-morrow night, as she had no time to spare waiting for the candle.

Hugh was more tired than he had ever been in his life. This had been the longest day he had ever known. It seemed more like a week than a day. Yet he could not go to sleep. He had forgotten to ask Phil to be sure and wake him in time in the morning: and now he must keep awake till Phil came, to say this. Then, he could not but ask himself whether he liked, and should like, being at school as much as he expected; and when he felt how very unlike home it was, and how rough everybody seemed, and how Phil appeared almost as if he was ashamed of him, instead of helping him, he was so miserable he did not know what to do.

He cried bitterly,--cried till his pillow was quite wet, and he was almost choked with his grief; for he tried hard not to let his sobs be heard. After awhile, he felt what he might do. Though he had kneeled he had not really prayed: and if he had, G.o.d is never weary of prayers.

It was a happy thought to Hugh that his very best friend was with him still, and that he might speak to Him at any time. He spoke now in his heart; and a great comfort it was. He said--

"O G.o.d, I am all alone here, where n.o.body knows me; and everything is very strange and uncomfortable. Please, make people kind to me till I am used to them; and keep up a brave heart in me, if they are not. Help me not to mind little things; but to do my lessons well, that I may get to like being a Crofton boy, as I thought I should. I love them all at home very much,--better than I ever did before. Make them love me, and think of me every day,--particularly Agnes,--that they may be as glad as I shall be when I go home at Christmas."

This was the most of what he had to say; and he dropped asleep with the feeling that G.o.d was listening to him.

After a long while, as it seemed to him, though it was only an hour, there was a light and some bustle in the room. It was Phil and two others coming to bed.

"O Phil!" cried Hugh, starting bolt upright and winking with sleep,--"I meant to keep awake, to ask you to be sure and call me in the morning, time enough,--quite time enough, please."

The others laughed; and Phil asked whether he had not seen the bell, as he came; and what it should be for but to ring everybody up in the morning.

"But I might not hear it," pleaded Hugh.

"Not hear it? You'll soon see that."

"Well, but you will see that I really do wake, won't you?"

"The bell will take care of that, I tell you," was all he could get from Phil.

CHAPTER FIVE.

CROFTON PLAY.

Hugh found, in the morning, that there was no danger of his not hearing the bell. Its clang clang startled him out of a sound sleep; and he was on his feet on the floor almost before his eyes were open. The boys who were more used to the bell did not make quite so much haste. They yawned a few times, and turned out more slowly; so that Hugh had the great tin wash basin to himself longer than the rest. There was a basin to every three boys; and, early as Hugh began, his companions were impatient long before he had done. At first, they waited, in curiosity to see what he was going to do after washing his face; when he went further, they began to quiz; but when they found that he actually thought of washing his feet, they hooted and groaned at him for a dirty brat.

"Dirty!" cried Hugh, facing them, amazed, "Dirty for washing my feet!

Mother says it is a dirty trick not to wash all over every day."

Phil told him that was stuff and nonsense here. There was no room and no time for such home-doings. The boys all washed their heads and feet on Sat.u.r.days. He would soon find that he might be glad to get his face and hands done in the mornings.

The other boys in the room were, or pretended to be, so disgusted with the very idea of washing feet in a basin, that they made Hugh rinse and rub out the tin basin several times before they would use it, and then there was a great bustle to get down-stairs at the second bell. Hugh pulled his brother's arm, as Phil was brushing out of the room, and asked, in a whisper, whether there would be time to say his prayers.

"There will be prayers in the school-room. You must be in time for them," said Phil. "You had better come with me."

"Do wait one moment, while I just comb my hair."

Phil fidgeted, and others giggled, while Hugh tried to part his hair, as Susan had taught him. He gave it up, and left it rough, thinking he would come up and do it when there was n.o.body there to laugh at him.

The school-room looked chilly and dull, as there was no sunshine in it till the afternoon; and still Mr Tooke was not there, as Hugh had hoped he would be. Mrs Watson and the servants came in for prayers, which were well read by the usher; and then everybody went to business:-- everybody but Hugh and Holt, who had nothing to do. Cla.s.s after cla.s.s came up for repet.i.tion; and this repet.i.tion seemed to the new boys an accomplishment they should never acquire. They did not think that any practice would enable them to gabble, as everybody seemed able to gabble here. Hugh had witnessed something of it before,--Phil having been wont to run off at home, "Sal, Sol, Ren et Splen," to the end of the pa.s.sage, for the admiration of his sisters, and so much to little Harry's amus.e.m.e.nt, that Susan, however busy she might be, came to listen, and then asked him to say it again, that cook might hear what he learned at school. Hugh now thought that none of them gabbled quite so fast as Phil: but he soon found out, by a glance or two of Phil's to one side, that he was trying to astonish the new boys. It is surprising how it lightened Hugh's heart to find that his brother did not quite despise, or feel ashamed of him, as he had begun to think: but that he even took pains to show off. He was sorry too when the usher spoke sharply to Phil, and even rapped his head with the cane, asking him what he spluttered out his nonsense at that rate for. Thus ended Phil's display; and Hugh felt as hot, and as ready to cry, as if it had happened to himself.

Perhaps the usher saw this; for when he called Hugh up, he was very kind. He looked at the Latin grammar he had used with Miss Harold, and saw by the dogs'-ears exactly how far Hugh had gone in it, and asked him only what he could answer very well. Hugh said three declensions, with only one mistake. Then he was shown the part that he was to say to-morrow morning; and Hugh walked away, all the happier for having something to do, like everybody else. He was so little afraid of the usher, that he went back to him to ask where he had better sit.

"Sit! O! I suppose you must have a desk, though you have nothing to put in it. If there is a spare desk, you shall have it: if not, we will find a corner for you somewhere."