…room　door　opened。

“Boh！　Madam　Mope！”　cried　the　voice　of　John　Reed；　then　he　paused：　he　found　the　room　apparently　empty。

“Where　the　dickens　is　she！”　he　continued。　“Lizzy！　Georgy！　（calling　to　his　sisters）　Joan　is　not　here：　tell　mama　she　is　run　out　into　the　rain—bad　animal！”

“It　is　well　I　drew　the　curtain；”　thought　I；　and　I　wished　fervently　he　might　not　discover　my　hiding…place：　nor　would　John　Reed　have　found　it　out　himself；　he　was　not　quick　either　of　vision　or　conception；　but　Eliza　just　put　her　head　in　at　the　door；　and　said　at　once—

“She　is　in　the　window…seat；　to　be　sure；　Jack。”

And　I　came　out　immediately；　for　I　trembled　at　the　idea　of　being　dragged　forth　by　the　said　Jack。

“What　do　you　want？”　I　asked；　with　awkward　diffidence。

“Say；　‘What　do　you　want；　Master　Reed？’”　was　the　answer。　“I　want　you　to　e　here；”　and　seating　himself　in　an　arm…chair；　he　intimated　by　a　gesture　that　I　was　to　approach　and　stand　before　him。

John　Reed　was　a　schoolboy　of　fourteen　years　old；　four　years　older　than　I；　for　I　was　but　ten：　large　and　stout　for　his　age；　with　a　dingy　and　unwholesome　skin；　thick　lineaments　in　a　spacious　visage；　heavy　limbs　and　large　extremities。　He　gorged　himself　habitually　at　table；　which　made　him　bilious；　and　gave　him　a　dim　and　bleared　eye　and　flabby　cheeks。　He　ought　now　to　have　been　at　school；　but　his　mama　had　taken　him　home　for　a　month　or　two；　“on　account　of　his　delicate　health。”　Mr。　Miles；　the　master；　affirmed　that　he　would　do