Hugh liked this beginning of his new prospects. He ran to be made neat for his walk with his mother. He knew he must have the wet curl on his forehead twice over to day, but he comforted himself with hoping that there would be no time at Crofton for him to be kept standing, to have his hair done so particularly, and to be scolded all the while, and then kissed, like a baby, at the end. CHAPTER THREE. MICHAELMAS-DAY COME. Hugh was about to ask his mother, again and again during their walk, why Mr Tooke let him go to Crofton before he was ten; but Mrs Proctor was grave and silent; and though she spoke kindly to him now and then, she did not seem disposed to talk. At last they were in the Temple Garden; and they sat down where there was no one to overhear them; and then Hugh looked up at his mother. She saw, and told him, what it was that he wanted to ask. "It is on account of the little boys themselves," said she, "that Mr Tooke does not wish to have them very young, now that there is no kind lady in the house who could be like a mother to them." "But there is Mrs Watson. Phil has told me a hundred things about Mrs Watson." "Mrs Watson is the housekeeper. She is careful, I know, about the boys' health and comfort; but she has no time to attend to the younger ones, as Mrs Tooke did,--hearing their little troubles, and being a friend to them like their mothers at home." "There is Phil--" "Yes. You will have Phil to look to. But neither Phil, nor any one else, can save you from some troubles you are likely to have from being the youngest." "Such as Mr Tooke told me his boy had;--being put on the top of a high wall, and plagued when he was tired: and all that. I don't think I should much mind those things." "So we hope, and so we believe. Your fault is not cowardice--" Mrs Proctor so seldom praised anybody that her words of esteem went a great way. Hugh first looked up at her, and then down on the grass,-- his cheeks glowed so. She went on-- "You have faults,--faults which give your father and me great pain; and though you are not cowardly about being hurt in your body, you sadly want courage of a better kind,--courage to mend the weakness of your mind. You are so young that we are sorry for you, and mean to send you where the example of other boys may give you the resolution you want so much." "All the boys learn their lessons at Crofton," observed Hugh. "Yes; but not by magic. They have to give their minds to their work. You will find it painful and difficult to learn this, after your idle habits at home. I give you warning that you will find it much more difficult than you suppose; and I should not wonder if you wish yourself at home with Miss Harold many times before Christmas."