Walter could not sleep for a long time, not till long after he heard from the regular breathings of the others that they were all in deep slumber. For there were sounds which came from Eden's bed which disturbed his heart with pity. His feelings bled for the poor little fellow, so young and fresh from home, a newcomer like himself, but evidently so little accustomed to this roughness and so little able to protect his own interests. For a long time into the night he heard the poor child crying and sobbing to himself, though he was clearly trying to stifle the sound. At last Walter could stand it no longer, and feeling sure that the rest were sound asleep, he whispered in his kindest tone, for he didn't know his neighbour's name-- "I say, you little new fellow." The sound of sobbing was hushed for a moment, but the boy seemed afraid to answer; so Walter said again--"Are you awake?" "Yes," said a weak, childish voice. "Don't be afraid; I'm a new fellow, too. Tell me your name." "Eden," he whispered tremulously, though reassured by the kindly tone of voice. "Hush! hush! you'll awake someone." "No, I won't," said Walter. "Here, I'll come and speak to you;" and stepping noiselessly out of bed, he whispered in Eden's ear, "Never mind, my poor little fellow; don't be frightened; the boy didn't mean to hurt you; he was only shoving your bed up and down for a joke. Someone did the same to me, so I jumped up and licked him with a slipper." "But I got so frightened. Oh, do you think they'll do it again to-night?" "No, certainly, not again to-night," said Walter; "they're all asleep; and if anyone does it again another night, you must just slip out of bed and not mind it. It doesn't hurt." "Thank you," whispered Eden; "you're very kind, and nobody else has been kind to me here. Will you tell me _your_ name?" "My name's Walter Evson. Do you know, your voice and look remind me of my little brother. There," he said, tucking him up in bed, "now good-night, and go to sleep." The little fellow pressed Walter's hand hard, said good-night, and soon forgot his misery in a sleep of pure weariness. I do not think that he would have slept at all that night, but for the comforting sense that he had found, to lean upon, a stronger nature and a stronger character than his own. Walter heard him breathing peacefully, and then he too fell asleep, and neither woke nor dreamt (that he was aware of), until half-past seven the next morning, when a servant roused the boys by ringing a large hand-bell in their ears. CHAPTER FIVE. SCHOOL TROUBLES. The sorrows of thy youthful day Shall make thee wise in coming years! The brightest rainbows ever play Above the fountains of our tears. Mackay.