“But now, come, tell me of yourself – what you do and how you get on;” and by degrees, almost without questioning, I told her all my proceedings. For somehow, it seemed the highest delight to me to be once more in the society of a refined lady. Her looks, her touch, the very scent emanating from her dress and the flowers, seemed so to bring back the old days that I felt as if I were once more at home, chatting away to my mother. And so the time slipped by till I imperceptibly found myself telling Miss Carr all about my old pursuits – our life at homeland my favourite books, she being a willing listener, when, suddenly, a clear, silvery-toned clock began to strike and dissolved the spell. The old drawing-room, the lawn beyond the French window, the scent of the flowers, seemed to pass away to give place to the great printing-office and my daily work, and with a choking sensation in my throat, I remembered what I was – the messenger who had forgotten his errand, and I started to my feet.

“Why, Antony!” exclaimed Miss Carr, “what is it?”

“I had forgotten,” I said piteously; “I brought you a note; Mr Lister will be angry if I do not take back the answer.”

The aspect of Miss Carr’s face seemed to change from a look of anxious wonder to one of sternness. There was a slight contraction of the handsome brow, and her voice was a little changed as she said quietly —

“Sit down again, Antony; both you and I have much to say yet.”

“But – the letter, ma’am?” I faltered.

“The letter can wait,” she replied. Then, smiling brightly as she took my hand once more, “You cannot take back the answer till I write it; and come, I am alone to-day; my sister is away upon a visit; you shall stay to lunch and dinner with me, and we’ll read and talk till we are tired.”

“Oh!” I ejaculated.

“Do you not wish to stay?” she said smiling.

I could not speak, for the old childish weakness that I had of late nearly mastered was almost conqueror again. It did get the better of my voice, but I involuntarily raised her soft white hand to my lips, and held it there for a few moments; while her eyes, even as they smiled upon me, seemed half-suffused with tears.

“I will write to Mr Lister presently,” she said at last, “and tell him I detained you here. That will, I am sure, be quite sufficient; so, Antony, you are my visitor for the rest of the day. And now tell me more about yourself.”

I could not speak just then, but sat thinking, Miss Carr watching me the while; but we were soon chatting away pleasantly till the servant came and announced lunch.

Chapter Twenty Six.
Sunshine

As we went down into the handsome dining-room I seemed to be in a dream, in the midst of which I heard Miss Carr’s voice telling the servant he need not wait; and as the door closed she laid her hand upon my shoulder and led me to the front of a large picture of a very beautiful woman, standing with her arm resting upon the shoulder of a grey-haired massive-looking man, not handsome, but with a countenance full of intelligence and force.

We stood silently before them for few moments, and then Miss Carr spoke:

“Can you tell who those are, Antony?” she said.

“Your papa and mamma,” I said, looking from the picture to her face.

“My dear father and mother, Antony,” she said, in a low, sweet voice; and her lips moved afterwards while she stood gazing up at them, as if saying something to herself.

I remember feeling well satisfied that I had on my best clothes that morning. I had reluctantly taken to them, but my others had grown so bad that I had been obliged. Then, too, there was a feeling of gratification that my hands were clean, and not stained and marked with ink. I remember feeling that as I took up the snowy table-napkin. All the rest was so dreamy and strange, only that I felt quite at home, and troubled by no sense of awkwardness. Moreover, Miss Carr’s behaviour towards me, as she intently watched my every action, became more and more warm, till it seemed to me as if I were in the society of some very dear sister; and a couple of hours later I felt as if we had known each other all our lives.

Upstairs once more she played to me, and smiled with pleasure as I picked out my favourite old pieces from the various operas; and at last she swung herself round upon the music-stool, and rose to draw my arm through hers, walking me thoughtfully up and down the room.

“What should you like to be, Antony?” she said half-playfully, “a soldier?”

“There’s something very grand about being a soldier,” I said thoughtfully, “when he fights to save his country; but no, I’m afraid I should be a coward.”

“A sailor, then?”

“No, Miss Carr,” I said, shaking my head. “I should either like to be a barrister or a doctor. I think I should like to be a doctor. No, I should like to be an engineer, and help Mr Hallett with his – ”

I stopped short and coloured, for I felt that I had nearly betrayed my friend.

“Well?” she said in a strange, hesitating way, “Mr Hallett’s what?”

“Please don’t think me ungrateful, Miss Carr,” I said, “but I cannot tell you. Mr Hallett trusted to me the secret of what he is making, and I cannot say more. Yes, I may say that he is busy over a great invention.”

I fancied she drew her breath as if it caught and gave her pain, but her face was like marble as she went on.

“Antony, you are quite right,” she said; “and if I had ever had any doubts about your being a gentleman’s son, these words would have removed it. So you would like to be an engineer?”

“Yes,” I said, “very much.”

She continued walking up and down the room, and then went on:

“You lodge, you say, with a Mr Revitts, a policeman. Is he respectable and nice?”

“He’s the dearest, best old fellow in the world?” I said with animation. “Old?”

“No, no,” I said, laughing. “I meant good and kind by old.”

“Oh,” she said, laughing. “But tell me, Antony; is he particular with you?”

“Oh yes; he quite watches me, to make sure what I do, and where I go.”

“Would you like to go to different and better lodgings?”

“Oh no,” I said. “He is going to be married soon to Mary, who was so good to me at Mr Blakeford’s, and they would be so disappointed if I left.”

“He watches over you, you say?”

“Yes, Miss Carr. He was very angry that night when I stopped out late with Mr Hallett, when we had to walk part of the way back.”

“And – and this Mr Hallett, is – is he a proper companion for such a boy as you?”

“Mr Hallett is a gentleman, although he is now only a common workman,” I said proudly.

“But a youth like you would be easily deceived.”

“Oh no!” I cried; “don’t think that, Miss Carr. I would not give up Mr Hallett for anything. You don’t know him,” I said almost indignantly. “Why, when his father died, he, poor fellow, had to leave college, and give up all his prospects to gain a living anyhow, to keep his poor sick mother and his sister.”

“He has a sister?”

“Yes: so very pretty: Linny Hallett. I go there, and read Latin and German with Mr Hallett, while he works at his – his great invention. Oh, Miss Carr, if you could see him, so good and tender to his invalid complaining mother, you would say I ought to be only too proud of my friend!”

She was pressing my hand as she hastened her steps up and down the room. Then, loosing my hand suddenly, she walked quickly to the window, and threw it open, to stand there for a few minutes gazing out.

“The room was too warm, Antony,” she said in a quiet, composed way; and her pleasant smile was back upon her face as she returned to me. “Why, we were quite racing up and down the room. So you read German, do you? Come, you shall read a bit of Goethe to me.”

“I’m afraid – ”

“That you are not perfect, Antony?” she said, laughing in a bright, eager way. “Neither am I. We will both try and improve ourselves. Have you well mastered the old, crabby characters?”

“Oh yes,” I said, laughing. “My mother taught me them when I was very young.”

“Why, Antony,” she cried, snatching the book from my hands at the end of half an hour; “you ought to be my master. But come, it is nearly dinner-time, and we must dress.”

“Dress?” I said, falling down from the seventh heaven to the level of Caroline Street, Pentonville, and bouncing back to the second floor.

“Well,” she said, smiling; “you would like to wash your hands.”

The rest of that evening was still more dreamlike than the day. I dined with Miss Carr, and afterwards she encouraged me to go on talking about myself, and present and past life. I amused her greatly about Revitts, and his efforts to improve his spelling; and she smiled and looked pained in turn, as I talked of Mary and my life at Mr Blakeford’s.

“I should like to know Mary,” she said, laughing; “Mary must be a rough gem.”

“But she is so good at heart!” I cried earnestly, for I felt pained at the light way in which she spoke of poor Mary.

“I am sure she is, Antony,” said Miss Carr, looking at me very earnestly; and then I began to talk of Mr Hallett, and how kind and firm he had been.

To my surprise, she stopped me, her voice sounding almost harsh as she said quietly:

“You are learning through a rough school, Antony, and are fast losing your homelike ways, and childlike – well – innocence; but you are still very impressionable, and ready to take people for what they seem. Antony, my boy, you will make many enemies as well as friends. Count me always among the latter, and as your friend I now say to you, do not be too ready to make friendships with men. I should rather see you with a good companion of your own age.”

“Yes, Miss Carr,” I said; “but if you knew Mr Hallett – ”

She held up her hand, and I stopped, for she seemed to turn pale and to look angry.

“Antony,” she said, as the tea was brought in, “you will soon have to go, now, and I have not written the answer to the letter you brought.”

“No, Miss Carr,” I said; and I could have added, “neither have you read it.”

“It is too late, of course, for you to take an answer back, so I shall send one by post. Do not be alarmed,” she said, smiling, as she divined my thoughts; “no one will be angry with you for staying here. It was my wish.”

“And your wish would be law with Mr Lister,” I thought.

“I shall expect you to write to me,” she continued, “and set down any books you require. Do not be afraid to ask for them. I will either lend or buy them for you.”

She was pouring out the tea as she spoke, and I took the cup from her hand, watching her thoughtfully the while, for she seemed to have grown strange and quiet during the last few hours; and it set me wondering whether she would ever be so kind to me again. In fact, I thought I must have done something to offend her.

That thought was chased away after tea, when we both rose, and she held out her hands to me with a very sweet smile, which told me the time had arrived when I must go.

“And now, Antony, you must come and see me again, often. Good-bye.”

I could not speak, but stood clinging to her hands for a few minutes.

“Don’t think me foolish,” I said, at last; “but it has seemed so strange – you have been so kind – I don’t know why – I have not deserved it.”

“Antony,” she said, laying one hand upon my shoulder, and speaking very softly and slowly, “neither do I know why, only that your simple little story seemed to go home to my heart. I thought then, as I think now, that when I lost both those who were near and dear to me, my sister and I might have been left penniless, to go out and struggle in the world as you have had to do. Once more, good-bye. Only strive on worthily, and you shall always find that I am your friend.”

The next minute I was in the street, dull, depressed, and yet elated and joyful, while I ran over again the bright, sunshiny hours that had been so unexpectedly passed, as I hastened northward to join Revitts, for it was one of his home nights.

Chapter Twenty Seven.
Linny is out Late

I noticed that there was growing trouble at the Halletts’, and more than once, when I went up, I found Linny in tears, which, however, she hastily concealed.

This was the case on the night following my visit to Miss Carr, whose words, “that I need be under no uneasiness,” were verified. The fact that I had been sent out by Mr Lister was sufficient for Mr Jabez Rowle; and when, during the next day, I encountered Mr Lister himself, he nodded to me in quite a friendly way, and said, “How are you?”

Mrs Hallett was asleep, and I went upstairs softly, tapped at Hallett’s room door, and went in, to find him deeply immersed in his task, over which he was bending with knitted brows, and evidently in doubt.

“Ah, Antony,” he said, “here we are, as busy as usual. How did you get on last night?”

“With Revitts?”

“Yes; was it not your lesson-night?”

“Yes,” I said; “but I thought perhaps you meant at Miss Carr’s!”

He dropped the file with which he had been at work and stared at me.

“Where did you say?” he exclaimed.

“Mr Lister sent me with a note to Miss Carr, and she kept me there all day.”

He drew in his breath with a hiss, caught up the file and went on working, while I chattered on, little thinking of the pain I was causing the poor fellow, as I rapturously praised Miss Carr and her home, and told him by degrees how I had spent the day.

I was too intent on my narration to pay much heed to Hallett’s face, though in fact I hardly saw it, he kept it so bent over his task, neither did I notice his silence; but at last, when it was ten o’clock, and I rose to go, he rose too, and I saw that he was rather paler than usual.

“Are you ill, Hallett?” I said anxiously. “How white you look.”

“Ill? oh no, Antony. I have been sitting too much over my model. You and I must have another run or two into the country, and put roses in our cheeks.”

He looked at me with a smile, but there was a weary, haggard look in his eyes that troubled me.

“Come, you must have a scrap of supper before you go,” he said; and in spite of my protest he led me into the sitting-room, where Mrs Hallett was seated by the shaded lamp reading, and the supper-cloth was laid half across the table.

“Yes,” she said, looking up, as she let fall her book; “it’s time you came, Stephen. It’s very, very, very cruel of you to leave me alone so long.”

“My dear mother,” he said tenderly, “I did not know you were by yourself. Where is Linny?” he said anxiously.

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Mrs Hallett querulously. “You are always either out or upstairs with your playthings.”

“For Heaven’s sake, mother, be just,” Hallett exclaimed, with a burst of energy, such as I had not seen in him before. “Don’t goad me at a time like this. Where, I say, where is Linny?”

“Goad you, Stephen! No, I don’t goad you,” whimpered the poor woman. “I cannot help myself; say what you will to me. You neglect me, and Linny is always running out.”

“Has Linny gone out now, mother?” exclaimed Hallett.

“Yes, yes, and I am left all alone – a poor helpless invalid.”

“Where has Linny gone, mother?”

“I don’t know, Stephen. She said there was something to fetch. How can I tell?” and she burst into tears.

“Mother, dear mother,” cried Hallett, bending over her and kissing her, “pray, pray don’t think me unkind; I am working for you, and Linny too.”

“But if you would only be more ambitious, Stephen – if you would only try your poor father’s profession.”

“I cannot – you know I cannot, dear,” he said appealingly.

“No, no, no,” sobbed the poor woman; “always some low mechanic’s pursuit. Oh dear, oh dear! If it would only please God to take me, and let me be at rest!”

“Mother, dear mother,” whispered Hallett, “be reasonable. Pray, dear, be reasonable, and bear with what does seem like neglect; for I am indeed working for you, and striving to make you a happier and better home. Believe this of me, and bear with me, especially now, when I have two troubles to meet that almost drive me mad. Linny, dear: think of Linny.”

“Shall I go now, Mr Hallett?” I said, for the scene was terrible to me, and I felt hot with indignation at one whom I looked upon as the most unreasonable of women.

“No, Antony; stay, I may want you,” he said sternly. “Now, mother,” he continued, “about Linny. She must not be allowed to go out at night like this.”

“No, my son,” said Mrs Hallett piteously; “and if you had taken my advice the poor child would not have been degraded to such menial tasks.”

“Mother,” said Hallett, with more sternness than I had yet heard him use in speaking to her, “it is not the mere going out shopping that is likely to degrade your child. The time has come when I must insist upon knowing the meaning of these frequent absences on Linny’s part. Has she gone out to-night on some necessary errand?”

“I – I don’t know, Stephen; she said she must go.”

“Tell me, mother – I beg, I insist,” he exclaimed, “what you are keeping from me.”

“Nothing, nothing, Stephen,” sobbed the poor woman. “You’ll kill me with your un kindness before you’ve done.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you do not know where Linny has gone, mother?”

“Yes, yes, Stephen; I do not know.”

“Has – has she gone to meet anyone?”

“I don’t know, Stephen; I think so.”

“Who is it, mother?” exclaimed Hallett.

“I don’t know, Stephen; indeed I don’t know. Oh, this is very, very cruel of you!”

“Mother,” said Hallett, “is this just and kind to me, to keep such a secret from my knowledge? Oh, shame, shame! You let that weak, foolish child keep appointments with a stranger, and without my knowledge – without my knowing it, who stand to her in the place of a father. It must be stopped at once.”

“Let me go, Hallett, please,” I whispered.

“Yes; go, Antony; it is better that you should not be here when Linny comes back. Good-night – good-night.”

I hurried downstairs, and let myself out, feeling miserable with the trouble I had seen, and I was just crossing Queen Square when I saw Linny coming in the opposite direction.

She caught sight of me on the instant and spoke.

“Where did you leave Stephen?” she said hastily; and I saw that she was flushed and panting with haste.

“With Mrs Hallett,” I said.

“Was he scolding because I was out?”

“Yes.”

She gave her head a hasty toss and turned away, looking prettier than ever, I thought, but I fancied, as we stood beneath a lamp, that she turned pale.

Before she had gone half-a-dozen steps I was by her side.

“Well? What is it?” she said; and now I saw that she was in tears.

“Nothing,” I replied; “only that I am going to see you safe home.”

“You foolish boy,” she retorted. “As if I could not take care of myself.”

“Your brother does not like you to be out alone at night,” I said quietly; “and I shall walk with you to the door.”

“Such nonsense, Antony! Ah, well, just as you like;” and she burst into a mocking laugh.

I knew this was to hide from me the fact that she was in tears; and I walked beside her in silence till we had nearly reached the door, when we both started, for a dark figure suddenly came up to us.

“Oh, Steve, how you frightened me!” exclaimed Linny with a forced laugh.

“Did I?” he said calmly; and then he held out his hand to me and pressed mine.

He did not speak, but that pressure of his hand meant thanks, I thought, for what I had done; and once more I set myself to reach Caroline Street, thinking very seriously about Linny Hallett, of her mother’s weakness and constant complaints, and of the way in which Stephen Hallett seemed to devote himself to them both.

Chapter Twenty Eight.
We Complete the Model

Matters did not improve at Great Ormond Street as the months rolled on. There was evidently a serious estrangement between Linny and Stephen Hallett; and in my frequent visits I saw that she was as wilful as she was pettish, and that she was setting her brother at defiance. Mrs Hallett was more piteous and complaining than ever, and her son grew haggard and worn with care.

Once or twice, when Linny went out, Hallett had insisted upon going with her, when she had snatched off her hat and jacket, exclaiming:

“It does not matter; I can go when you are away. I am not a child, Stephen, to be treated in such a way as this.”

He stood looking down at her, more in sorrow than in anger, and beckoning me to follow, he went up to his attic and turned to his model, but sat down thinking, with his head upon his hand.

“Can I do anything to help you, Hallett?” I said anxiously; and he roused himself directly, and smiled in my face.

“No, Antony,” he said, “nothing. I could only ask you to follow her, and be a spy upon her actions, and that would degrade us both. Poor child! I cannot win her confidence. It is my misfortune, not my fault. I am no ladies’ man, Antony,” he continued bitterly. “Here, let us try the model. I meant to have finished to-night; let us see how my mistress behaves.”

He often used to speak in a laughing way of the model as his mistress, after Mrs Hallett telling him one day that it was the only thing he loved.

It was then about nine o’clock, and putting aside reading for that evening, I helped him to fit together the various parts. The framework had been set up and taken down and altered a score of times, for, as may be supposed in such a contrivance as this, with all its complications, it was impossible to make every part at first in its right proportions. In fact, I found out that for quite a couple of years past Hallett had been slowly and painfully toiling on, altering, re-making, and re-modelling his plans. It was always the same. No sooner had he by patient enterprise nearly finished, as he thought, than he would find out that some trifle spoiled the unity of the whole machine, and he had had to begin nearly all over again.

“There, Antony,” he said, on the night in question, as he laid down the last wheel, one that he had had specially made for the purpose, “I have got to the end of my thinking to-night. I have looked at the model in every direction; I have tried it from every point of view, and if it is not a success now, and will not work, I shall throw it aside and try no more. What are you smiling at, boy?”

“Only at you,” I said, laughing outright, for we were now, when at his house, on the most familiar terms.

“And why?” he said, half amused, half annoyed.

“I was thinking of what you so often say to me when I am discouraged and can’t get on.”

“What do you mean?”

“‘Never say die!’” I replied, laughing. “I know you’ll try again, and again, till you get the thing right and make it go.”

“Should you?” he said, looking at me curiously.

“Of course I would,” I cried, with my cheeks flushing. “I never would give up with a puzzle at home, and this is only a big puzzle. It seems, too, as if we always get a little bit nearer to success.”

“Yes,” he said, nipping his lips together; “that’s what makes it so enticing. It seems to lure me on and on, like a will-o’-the-wisp in a marsh. You’re right, Antony, my lad; never say die! I must and will succeed.”

“Hurray!” I cried, pretending to throw up my cap. “Success to Hallett’s great invention! Patent, of course?”

“Yes,” he said, with a sigh; “but where is the money to come from for the patent?”

“Suppose we finish it first,” I said, laughing.

“Right, my young wisepate,” he cried; “but, good heavens! it’s eleven o’clock. Come, sir, pack off home to your lodging.”

“Why, I thought we were to set the model going to-night?” I said, in a disappointed tone.

“Yes, I did mean it,” he said, fitting a couple of cog-wheels one into the other. “But it is too late now.”

“Let’s try for another hour,” I said eagerly.

“No, no, my boy. I don’t like you to be out so late. Mr Revitts will be annoyed.”

“He’s away on duty,” I said. “Just another hour, and then you can walk part of the way home with me.”

“Well, just an hour,” he said, with his pale face flushing with pleasure; and we set to at once, he fitting together, while I polished and oiled wheels and spindles, and handed them and the various screws to him to fit in their places.

The model was as intricate as a clock, and there were endless little difficulties to combat; but there was something so fascinating in the task as the bright brass wheels were placed in order, and it begat such an intense longing to see it in motion, executing in miniature the great desire of Hallett’s life, that we forgot all about time, and kept steadily on till there were only a few screws to insert and nuts to tighten, and the task would be done.

Hallett looked up at me as he re-trimmed the lamp by which we worked, and I across the table at him, laughing at his puzzled face, for we had unconsciously been at work over three hours, and it was past two.

“This is dreadful, Antony,” he exclaimed, with a comical look of chagrin on his face. “I seem fated to lead you into all sorts of dissipation. What are we to do? I cannot let you go home so late as this. You must lie down here.”

“I’m not a bit sleepy,” I said, “but I am hungry.”

“Then you shall have some supper,” he said dreamily, and with his eyes fixed upon his model, forgetting me the next moment, as with his dexterous fingers he tried the action of one or other of the wheels.

“It’s a pity to leave it now,” I cried.

“Yes, yes,” he said with a sigh; “it is a pity: but it must be left. I dare – ”

He ceased talking, becoming completely abstracted in his task of screwing on a nut, and without speaking I helped and watched and helped until quite an hour and a half more had glided by, when with a look of triumph he stood erect, for the task was done.

“She’s finished, Antony,” he cried, and in the elate eager face before me I seemed to see some one quite different to the stern, quiet compositor I met daily at the great printing-office by Fetter Lane.

I was as delighted as he, and together we stood gazing down at the bright, beautiful bit of mechanism – the fruit of years of toil and endless thought; but as I gazed at it a strange dull feeling of anxiety came over me, and I glanced timorously at Hallett, for the thought flashed across my mind:

“What will he say now if it fails?”

I literally trembled with dread as this thought forced its way home, and with a choking sensation at my throat I watched his eager, elated face each moment becoming more joyous and full of pride; and the more I witnessed his pleasure, the more I feared lest his hopes should be dashed.

“Why, it’s daybreak, Antony,” he said, drawing up the blind. “My poor boy, what a thoughtless wretch I am. It is cruel to you. Come and lie down directly.”

“No,” I said eagerly, “I want to see the model going.”

“And so do I, Antony,” he cried passionately; “but now the time has come, my boy, I dare not try. I feel a horrible dread of failure, and I must cover it over with a cloth, and leave it till I feel more calm.”

He took up the large black cloth with which he had been in the habit of covering it from the dust, and stood gazing down at the bright brass model which had begun to glisten in the soft pure morning light now stealing in from amidst the London chimney-pots, while a couple of sparrows seated upon the parapet set up a cheery chirp.

I felt that I dared not speak, but as if I should have liked to lead him away from the infatuation of his life. Somehow I knew that it would break down, and the anguish he must feel would be something I could not bear to see; and yet, combined with this, I shared his longing to see the model at work – the beautiful little piece of mechanism that was to produce a revolution in printing – turning easily, smoothly, and well.

As I gazed at his eager, anxious face, the pale light in the sky changed to a soft warm flush; bright flecks of orange and gold sent their reflections into the dingy garret, and seemed to illumine Hallett’s countenance, as with straining eyes and parted lips he stood there cloth in hand.

“Antony,” he said, in a low hoarse voice, “I am a coward. I feel like a gambler who risks his all upon a stake, and dare not look upon the numbers – upon the newly cast dice. No, no, I dare not try it now; let it rest till to-night.”

As he spoke he covered it carefully with the black cloth, but only to snatch it away, apostrophising it the while.

“No, no,” he cried; “it is like covering you with a pall and saying you are dead, when, you, the birth of my brains, are ready to leap into new life – new life indeed – the life of that which has had no existence before. Antony, boy,” he said exultingly, “what time could be more fitting than the birth of a new day for my invention to see the light? Throw open the window and let in the glow of sunshine and sweet fresh air. It is unsullied yet, and it will give us strength for our – for our – ”

He hesitated, and his exulting tone changed to one of calm resignation. It was as if he had felt the shadow of failure coming on, and he said softly:

“Our triumph, Antony; or, God help me, fortitude to bear our failure!”

I had opened the window, and the soft, refreshing morning air floated into the room, seeming to bring with it a suggestion of the scents of the sweet, pure country; and now, in the midst of the silence, broken only by the chirping of the sparrows, and the distant rattle of the wheels of some market-cart, I saw Hallett’s countenance grow stern as he placed a little reel of thin paper, narrow as a ribbon, upon a spindle, and then, motioning to me to go to the handle which was to set the model in motion, he stood there with set teeth, and I turned.

There was a clicking, humming noise, the whirring of wheels, and the rattle of the little cogs; the ribbon of paper began to run off its spool, and pass round a tiny cylinder; and at that moment the little model seemed illumined by a brilliant ray of sunshine, which darted in at the open window. Then the light seemed to be glorifying Hallett’s face, and I was about to utter a cheer, when I felt a jar, and a shock from the fingers that held the handle run right up my arm. There was a sharp, grating noise, a tiny, piercing shriek as of tortured metal; and in place of the busy glistening, whirring wheels an utter stillness. A cloud crossed the rising sun, and with a bitter sigh Hallett stooped down and picked up the black cloth, which he softly and reverently drew over the wreck of his work, as I stood with dilated eyes looking at him aghast.