smiling at it as I regarded him. He had washed his face and combed
out his fair curls; though his clothes were threadbare, all but
ragged, they were not unclean; and there was a rosy, healthy
freshness in his tanned skin, which showed he loved and delighted in
what poor folk generally abominate--water. And now the sickness of
hunger had gone from his face, the lad, if not actually what our
scriptural Saxon terms "well-favoured," was certainly "well-liking."
A beggar-boy, indeed! I hoped he had not heard Jael's remark. But
he had.

"Madam," said he, with a bow of perfect good-humour, and even some
sly drollery, "you mistake: I never begged in my life: I'm a person
of independent property, which consists of my head and my two hands,
out of which I hope to realise a large capital some day."

I laughed. Jael retired, abundantly mystified, and rather cross.
John Halifax came to my easy chair, and in an altered tone asked me
how I felt, and if he could do anything for me before he went away.

"You'll not go away; not till my father comes home, at least?" For I
had been revolving many plans, which had one sole aim and object, to
keep near me this lad, whose companionship and help seemed to me,
brotherless, sisterless, and friendless as I was, the very thing that
would give me an interest in life, or, at least, make it drag on less
wearily. To say that what I projected was done out of charity or
pity would not be true; it was simple selfishness, if that be
selfishness which makes one leap towards, and cling to, a possible
strength and good, which I conclude to be the secret of all those
sudden likings that spring more from instinct than reason. I do not
attempt to account for mine: I know not why "the soul of Jonathan