should not have to conduct his education; I could not have denied
him anything. His hair was brown and curly, cut short, but of that
fineness and glossy aspect that showed that till lately it had been
allowed its own way.

The boy had beautiful lips and white regular teeth, with that
exquisite complexion that is the result of perfect health and
physical condition. He did not speak English very well, but acquired
it fast. He always spoke slowly, and with a very pure articulation.
His voice was clear, high-pitched, and thrilling—I have no other
word for it.

On the following day I took him down to Tredennis. The boy was
interested and excited, and asked many questions of a very
unsophisticated kind.

"Why do people stare at me so?" he said, turning round from the
window of the carriage, in Bristol, where he stood devouring the
crowd with hungry eyes. I could not explain to him. He thought it was
because of his foreign look, and was much disgusted. "I made them
_dress_ me like an Englishman," he said, surveying himself. To be
English, that was his aim.

I found that his father had inculcated this idea in him thoroughly,
and had impressed upon him the dignity of the position. It was, I was
told afterward, the one argument that never failed to make him
attentive in his lessons.

It was not till he was driving away from Truro into the country that
he found leisure to think of his father and brother, and wonder what