"Yes, sir, I was," answered Ingram, somewhat pleased with the pretty expression, as he thought it, of the gentleman, and the silvery voice in which he spoke. "Ay, sir, there's more kindness among dumb creatures than we think of," rejoined the gentleman: "much more, I'm inclined to think, than amongst human beings." "Do you think so, sir?" asked Ingram; for the observation awoke a vague painfulness that he did not like, at once, to express to a stranger. "Why, have _you_ found nothing but kindness, young man, in the world, hitherto?" said the stranger, with a look that Ingram thought so benevolent as to be completely melted by it. "Have you found nothing but kindness, now, in London, permit me to ask? You are from the country, I think?" "Yes," answered Ingram, feeling too much at work with regret within to say more. "Seeking for a situation, and finding none, perhaps?" continued the gentleman; "and--but I shall, perhaps, be obtruding where I have no right--perhaps, beginning to feel it difficult to subsist?" Ingram looked volumes, but could not reply: he had lived on two cups of muddy coffee and a roll, daily, for the last month, and this was the first and only human being who had troubled himself to ask him a question relative to his circumstances. Ingram was next invited, very, very kindly, to return to the stranger's house; and he could not muster pride enough to refuse. There was one face at the window, which had been there every one of the four mornings that Ingram had passed, although he had not seen it; but he saw it now, and he thought it the sweetest he had ever seen; and, indeed, it was looking very angelically just then, when he caught the first glimpse of it. 'Twas an expression that said, "Oh! he's come back, just as I wished!"--if Ingram could have read it. Ingram Wilson had found a friend: not a rich one, as he speedily found, but a human being with a heart--a _real_ heart--and Ingram could not have found any thing more valuable had he searched the world over. After partaking a good plain breakfast--for, although the forenoon was advanced, the poor young fellow had not, till then, broken his fast--Ingram composed his spirits, and, at the request of his new friend--his first London friend--related the cause and intent of his leaving the country. His course of suffering in London he touched upon but slightly at first; but the gentleman gradually and winningly drew the entire truth from him, and then proceeded, with a paternal look, to give Ingram some little advice as to the future.