CHAPTER VII.
THE FLOOD.
Every boy had gone home with the exception of Leslie, their farewell shouts still echoed in his ears as he looked gloomily from one of the deserted school-room windows out into the equally deserted playground; how silent and lonely everything seemed, and to make matters worse, the rain had re-commenced to fall. How sad Leslie felt; he pictured to himself the warm and loving reception each of his departed school-boy friends would receive on reaching home. Yes, he pictured it all to himself as he stood watching the falling rain, and the hot tears gushed from his eyes, and, laying his head upon the window sill, he burst into uncontrollable sobs.
How long he remained thus he knew not, but he was roused from his painful sense of desolation by a gentle hand being laid upon his bowed head, and a kind voice saying, "My poor boy! I am very sorry you are left behind; there, there, do not cry, brighten up, and come into the parlour with Maud and me," and Mrs Price wiped the tears from his face, and brushing back his hair, imprinted a kiss upon his forehead.
This kindness only made Leslie feel more inclined to cry, but repressing his tears, and placing one hand in Mrs Price's, he said, as they walked to the parlour, "You are very kind, ma'am, and your voice is as soft as my own mamma's; thank you very much."
"There, that is a brave boy; you must not let Maud see you cry."
"No, but I could not help it, I did so long to go home, and it is such a disappointment to be kept at school."