'King Alfred!' said Mr. Cope. 'I met King Harold yesterday. I've
got into royal company, it seems!'

Alfred smiled, it was said so drolly; but his mother, who felt a
little as if she were being laughed at, said, 'Why, Sir, my brother's
name was Alfred; and as to Harold, it was to please Miss Jane's
little sister that died--she was quite a little girl then, Sir, but
so clever, and she would have him named out of her History of
England.'

'Did Miss Selby give you those flowers?' said Mr. Cope, admiring the
rose and geranium in the cup on the table.

'Yes, Sir;' and Mrs. King launched out in the praises of Miss Jane
and of my Lady, an inexhaustible subject which did not leave Alfred
much time to speak, till Mrs. King, seeing the groom from the Park
coming with the letter-bag through the rain, asked Mr. Cope to excuse
her, and went down-stairs.

'Well, Alfred, I think you are a lucky boy,' he said. 'I was
comparing you with a lad I once knew of, who got his spine injured,
and is laid up in a little narrow garret, in a back street, with no
one to speak to all day. I don't know what he would not give for a
sister, and a window like this, and a Miss Jane.'

Alfred smiled, and said, 'Please, Sir, how old is he?'

'About sixteen; a nice stout lad he was, as ever I knew, till his
accident; I often used to meet him going about with his master, and
thought it was a pleasure to meet such a good-humoured face.'