in the silent night, and that Nelly should be alone in her little grave miles away from where he stood.
What a lot had been crowded into his lonely life since last he stood in Addler's Hall, holding his little sister by the hand! And he wondered if ever Nelly left her beautiful home in the sky to pay a visit to the dreary haunts of her childhood.
Before him the door of his old home stood open—the night was not so dark but he could see that—and he could see also that the place wore even a more forsaken appearance than in former days.
Pausing for a moment on the threshold, he plunged into the darkness, then stood still in the middle of the room and listened; but no sound of breathing or noise of any kind broke the oppressive stillness.
He soon discovered also that the house was destitute of furniture; a few shavings under the stairs alone remained. "The bobbies 'll not find me 'ere, I reckon," he said to himself, "though Nelly may."
And he stretched himself on the shavings in the comer where he and his little sister used to sleep in the days that had gone for ever.
It seemed so strange to be there again, and to be there in sorrow and disgrace; and once or twice he stretched out his hand in the darkness as if expecting to find his little sister by his side. Then, as the memory of his loss and the loneliness of his life crept over him, he gave vent to his feelings in a flood of tears. By-and-bye he grew calm,
