Our hero was a handsome boy. Just at present he was somewhat thin, not having entirely recovered from the effects of his sickness and poor fare while a member of Mr. Mudge's family; but he was well made, and bade fair to become a stout boy. His manner was free and unembarrassed, and he carried a letter of recommendation in his face. It must be admitted, however that there were two points in which his appearance might have been improved. Both his hands and face had suffered from the dust of travel. His clothes, too, were full of dust. A single glance told Hester all this, and she resolved to remedy it. She quietly got some water and a towel, and requested Paul to pull off his jacket, which she dusted while he was performing his ablutions. Then, with the help of a comb to arrange his disordered hair, he seemed quite like a new boy, and felt quite refreshed by the operation. “Really, it improves him very much,” said Hester to herself. She couldn't help recalling a boy of her own,--the only child she ever had,--who had been accidentally drowned when about the age of Paul. “If he had only lived,” she thought, “how different might have been our lives.” A thought came into her mind, and she looked earnestly at Paul. “I--yes I will speak to Hugh about it,” she said, speaking aloud, unconsciously. “Did you speak to me?” asked Paul. “No,--I was thinking of something.” She observed that Paul was looking rather wistfully at a loaf of bread on the table. “Don't you feel hungry?” she asked, kindly. “I dare say you have had no breakfast.” “I have eaten nothing since yesterday afternoon.” “Bless my soul! How hungry you must be!” said the good woman, as she bustled about to get a plate of butter and a knife. She must have been convinced of it by the rapid manner in which the slices of bread and butter disappeared. At one o'clock the sexton came home. Dinner was laid, and Paul partook of it with an appetite little affected by his lunch of the morning. As he rose from the table, he took his cap, and saying, “Good-by, I thank you very much for your kindness!” he was about to depart. “Where are you going?” asked the sexton, in surprise. “I don't know,” answered Paul. “Stop a minute. Hester, I want to speak to you.” They went into the sitting-room together. “This boy, Hester,” he commenced with hesitation. “Well, Hugh?” “He has no home.” “It is a hard lot.” “Do you think we should be the worse off if we offered to share our home with him?” “It is like your kind heart, Hugh. Let us go and tell him.” “We have been talking of you, Paul,” said the sexton. “We have thought, Hester and myself, that as you had no home and we no child, we should all be the gainers by your staying with us. Do you consent?” “Consent!” echoed Paul in joyful surprise. “How can I ever repay your kindness?” “If you are the boy we take you for, we shall feel abundantly repaid. Hester, we can give Paul the little bedroom where--where John used to sleep.”