She then asked his leave to prepare breakfast; and her grandfather coming downstairs after a while, they all three sat down together. While they were eating, their host said that the old man seemed much tired, and stood in need of rest. "If the journey you have before you is a long one," he said, "you are very welcome to pass another night here. I should really be glad if you would, friend." He saw that the old man looked at Nell, and added,— "I shall be glad to have your young companion with me for one day. If you can do a charity to a lone man, and rest yourself at the same time, do so. But if you must go again upon your journey, I wish you well through it, and will walk a little way with you before school begins." "What are we to do, Nell?" said the old man in great doubt. "Say what we’re to do, dear." Nell was only too glad to stay. She was happy to show how thankful she was to the kind schoolmaster by doing such household duties as his little cottage stood in need of. When these were done she took some needlework from her basket and sat down upon a stool beside the window. Her grandfather was resting in the sun outside, and idly watching the clouds as they floated on before the light summer wind. As the schoolmaster took his seat behind his desk to begin the day’s work, the child was afraid that she might be in the way, and offered to go to her little bedroom. But this he would not allow; and as he seemed pleased to have her there, she stayed, busying herself with her work. "Have you many scholars, sir?" she asked. The poor schoolmaster shook his head, and said that they barely filled the two forms. "Are the others clever, sir?" asked the child, glancing at the wall. "Good boys," returned the schoolmaster. "good boys enough, my dear; but they’ll never do like that." At the top of the first form—the post of honour in the school—was the empty place of the little sick scholar, and at the head of the row of pegs on which hats or caps were hung, one was empty. Soon began the hum of learning lessons, the whispered jest, and all the noise and drawl of school; and in the midst of the din sat the poor schoolmaster, trying in vain to fix his mind upon the duties of the day, and to forget his little friend. But the work only reminded him more strongly of the willing scholar. "I think, boys," said the schoolmaster, when the clock struck twelve, "that I shall give a half-holiday this afternoon." Upon this the boys, led on by the tallest among them, raised a great shout. "You must promise me first," said the schoolmaster, "that you’ll not be noisy, or at least, if you are, that you’ll go away and be so—away out of the village, I mean. I’m sure you wouldn’t disturb your old playmate." "No, sir! no, sir!" said the boys in a chorus. "Then pray don’t forget—there’s my dear scholars," said the schoolmaster—"what I have asked you, and do it as a favour to me. Good-bye all."