But Tom began to get tired of the horsey talk and Randall's wisdom before they parted, for he would have liked to talk about Dick and his home, if he could only have found some one to listen to his story.
His aunt's house seemed very lonely to him; not at all like the pleasant home he had been used to all his life. His uncle did not get home until late in the evening, and his aunt, who was not used to boys, sat and watched him for fear he should scrape his feet on the chair-rails, or push it when he moved instead of lifting it, and so wear out the carpet, for they had tea in the little back parlour, and she was very careful of the furniture, lest it should be spoiled.
"Hadn't you better go to bed now?" she would say to Tom about eight o'clock.
And Tom went; but he did not like it much, though it was dull to sit and watch his aunt at her sewing, or tease the cat, which seemed all the amusement he could find. He was not very fond of reading, and if he had been, there were no books about here for him to read, so he went to bed at eight o'clock the first week of his stay.
But when he had been there a fortnight, and had learned his way about the neighbouring streets and roads, he thought he might as well go out for a walk after tea, as sit and look at his aunt, and his proposal to do this seemed rather to please her.
"Yes, you can go out for an hour, if you like, only don't lose yourself, and mind you get home before your uncle comes in."
"All right," said Tom, smiling at the idea of losing himself now, for he had taken careful note of the different turnings, and as his uncle rarely got home before ten o'clock, there would be plenty of time for him to go for a long walk.
The street where his aunt lived opened into a broad, busy road with large, well-lighted shops, and of course Tom made his way there at once, sticking his hands in his pockets, for the evenings were chilly. When he got there he was at a loss which way to turn, for although he knew the road leading to the City, he did not want to go that way now, but to vary his walk if he could. So he stood at the corner looking up and down the street, undecided which way to take, when a lad about his own age came sauntering towards him.
"Fine night," he remarked, as he halted beside Tom. "Are you out for a stroll?"
"Yes, I came out for a walk, but I hardly know which way to go," replied Tom, looking at the stranger to see if he had ever spoken to him before.