At length the boy fell asleep; and then Fortune seemed to wake up for the
first time to the full consciousness of what was and what was about to
be.

All of a sudden she heard steps on the gravel below; then the hall bell
rang through the silent house. She knew who it was even before she
opened the door and saw him standing there.

"May I come in? They told me you were keeping house alone, and I said I
should just walk over to bid you and Davie good-by."

Roy's manner was grave and matter-of-fact--a little constrained, perhaps,
but not much--and he looked so exceedingly pale and tired that; without
any hesitation, she took him into the school-room, where they were
sitting, and gave him the arm-chair by Davie's sofa.

"Yes, I own to being rather overdone; I have had so much to arrange, for
I must leave here tomorrow, as I think you know."

"The boys told me."

"I thought they would. I should have done it myself, but every day I
hoped to see you. It was this fellow's fault, I suppose," patting
Davie's head. "He seems quite well now, and as jolly as possible. You
don't know what it is to say 'Good-by,' David, my son." Mr. Roy, who
always got on well with children, had a trick of calling his younger
pupils "My Son."

"Why do you say 'good-by' at all, then!" asked the child, a mischievous
but winning young scamp of six or seven, who had as many tricks as a