on a visit to Holland, and often entertained
us too by describing the Dutch people's
life; their canals and endless pipes; their
dairies and clean homes; their dykes and
gardens.

Her society delighted me. In the listlessness
and indolence of my sick room, when she was
gone, I had no other pleasure than to think
of her— to go over again the stories that she
had told us, giving to all the women in them
only one sweet face. I knew her ring, when
she pulled the handle of the iron bell across
the garden. At the sound of her step,
all the lassitude and peevishness of my low
weak state were gone. But there was no
greater pleasure to me than to hear her read.
The Vanderlindens had never been remarkable
for a taste for books. In English literature
they knew of no author but Sir William Temple.
They had, I think, a notion that
nothing of any importance had been, or could
have been published in England since his
death. The two volumes of his complete works,
with Swift's preface and memoir, came to me
by the carrier, soon after I was removed from
Fulham— unwieldy folios, which I perhaps
should never have looked into. Their heavy
binding, their clumsy gilt letters, and their
very title were repugnant to me. Our garden,
which was well stored with flowers and wall-fruit,
suggested to us the Essay on Gardens,
which she read aloud.

It was indeed a great pleasure to hear my
cousin Alice reading, in her clear voice from
that great volume, the author's eulogium upon
his favourite pastime, the inclination as he
calls it of kings, and the choice of philosophers,
the pleasure of the greatest and
the care of the meanest; and, indeed, an employment
and a possession for which no man is
too high or too low.

Garnett liked Alice; but he could not feel
that dreamy pleasure in her society which I
did. He used to tell her droll things and
laugh with a boisterous heartiness that told
me better than any words how differently he
regarded her. I talked to Alice of my friendship
for him, and of what a noble and
wonderful fellow he was; so that we became all
great friends. I taught Garnett to play at
chess when I was getting well; for Alice had
no patience to learn, and we sat and played
while she worked. I was not a bad player;
but Garnett learnt to beat me very soon;
and at last could even put a ring over a piece,
and give me notice that he would checkmate
me with that piece and no other. Alice, who
knew nothing of the game, would watch him
do this, and laugh when he succeeded; but
it never ruffled me. Garnett knew an infinite
variety of things which would amuse us. He
was particularly skilful in jugglers' tricks
with cards, and dolls, and other more elaborate
apparatus, which made him a still
greater favourite with us all. I have
nothing more to tell of this time, save that
Alice gave me one day a goldfinch in a
lacquered cage, which I kept for years till the
bird grew old, and blind, and lost half his
feathers.

My school days came to an end soon after
my recovery. In the very last term, there
was a great examination, to be followed by a
formal adjudication of prizes in the presence
of the friends of the scholars and patrons of
the school. I had won prizes at such
examinations, and felt little doubt of getting some
prize this time, particularly in Euclid and in
Roman history; but none knew the result
until the great day of the award, when the
winners would be called up to the table by
the master, and presented with the prizes in
the presence of the company. I had a strong
wish to win something on this occasion— the
crowning point of my school life; and on the
afternoon of the distribution, felt more
excited than I had ever felt before. Walking
to and fro in the lane before the school-house
alone, for I had not seen Garnett that day, I
met my godfather, old Mr. Moy, who was a
lawyer, and lived behind the Mansion House,
or in Stocks Market as he called it, from its
name when he was a boy. Alice Vanderlinden
was leaning on his arm, looking, I
thought, more beautiful than ever; but I was
too nervous to say more to her than "good
morning." My godfather asked me what
prizes I meant to take.

"I may perhaps get one in Euclid, sir," I
answered.

"We shall be there," said Alice, "I hope
you will gain it."

"So you have given all your time to
Euclid?" said my godfather.

"I have done my best in other things," I
replied. " But I have many clever school-fellows
who have done the same."

My face flushed as I said this, with a
thought that never before had caused me
any shade of pain; but it passed away quickly:
though, after they had left me, I continued
walking about the street, till most of the
scholars had gone in. When I went in, and
took my place, I looked round the room, and
saw Garnett at a distance from where I sat.
He had come in unperceived by me, and the
rows being filled up, I could not go over
to speak to him. Alice, too, was there,
with my godfather and other friends, sitting
among pompous aldermen, and merchants,
and rich city traders, in a semi-circle round
the table, so conspicuously that I was not
sorry to sit behind, where I could see them
unobserved.

Garnett took two prizes early in the ceremony.
The prizes in Roman history fell to
other boys. The Euclid prizes were adjudged
nearly last; and as yet my name had not
been mentioned. When we came to these, I
glanced towards Alice, and saw her looking
attentively at the table. The names were
called, but mine was not among them.
The first was the son of the then Lord Mayor
elect; the second— some movement in the