is merely a person from the ship, who has conducted his child
hither."

The bell was rung, money was sent to the man, and orders given that
the boy should be shown up immediately.

While young Henry was walking up the stairs, the dean's wife was
weighing in her mind in what manner it would most redound to her
honour to receive him; for her vanity taught her to believe that the
whole inquisitive world pried into her conduct, even upon every
family occurrence.

Young William was wondering to himself what kind of an unpolished
monster his beggarly cousin would appear; and was contemplating how
much the poor youth would be surprised, and awed by his superiority.

The dean felt no other sensation than an impatient desire of
beholding the child.

The door opened--and the son of his brother Henry, of his
benefactor, entered.

The habit he had on when he left his father, having been of slight
texture, was worn out by the length of the voyage, and he was in the
dress of a sailor-boy. Though about the same age with his cousin,
he was something taller: and though a strong family resemblance
appeared between the two youths, he was handsomer than William; and
from a simplicity spread over his countenance, a quick impatience in
his eye--which denoted anxious curiosity, and childish surprise at
every new object which presented itself--he appeared younger than