Cecile and Maurice had not only gone to school by day, but at Mr.
Danvers' express wish had for a short part of their stay in London
attended a small and excellent night-school, which was entirely
taught by deaconesses who worked under the good clergyman.

To this same night-school came, not regularly, but by fits and
starts, a handsome lad of fourteen--a lad with brilliant black eyes,
and black hair flung off an open brow. He was poorly dressed, and his
young smooth cheeks were hollow for want of sufficient food. When he
was in his best attire, and in his gayest humor, he came with a
little fiddle swung across his arm.

But sometimes he made his appearance, sad-eyed, and without his
fiddle. On these occasions, his feet were also very often destitute
of either shoes or stockings.

He was a troublesome boy, decidedly unmanageable, and an irregular
scholar, sometimes, absenting himself for a whole week at a time.

Still he was a favorite. He had a bright way and a winsome smile. He
never teased the little ones, and sometimes on leaving school he
would play a bright air or two so skilfully and with such airy grace,
on his little cracked fiddle, that the school children capered round
in delight. The deconesses often tried to get at his history but he
never would tell it; nor would he, even on those days when he had to
appear without either fiddle, or shoes, or stockings, complain of want.

On the evening when Cecile first went to this night-school, a pretty