THE STORY OF A BOY'S LIFE.
[CHAPTER I.]
BIGAROONS AND BITTERNESS.
IT was a hot day in July, and twelve o'clock was striking from a neighbouring church as a little girl came from one of the narrow streets that open into Drury Lane, and walked rapidly in the direction of Oxford Street. Her face, generally very pale, was now flushed with pleasure and excitement, while her eyes sparkled with delight. She had gone some little distance before she perceived the person whom she had come to meet. It was her brother, and breaking into a run she was soon at his side.
"O! Phil," she gasped, completely out of breath, "what do you think? Miss Crawford has been to see me."
"You should not run in such hot weather, Millie," said her brother. "You'll be ill again, if you do. Here, sit down a minute on this door-step, and get cool. Who has been, did you say?"
"Miss Crawford. Why, Phil, you can't have forgotten her."
"No, I remember," he answered shortly; and his face grew sorrowful, almost stern, at the recollections the name recalled.
"She said she had been trying to find us everywhere," Millie went on eagerly, "but nobody at Camberwell seemed to know where we had gone. Then one day last week she happened to meet Ned Roberts, and he told her that he thought uncle had moved to Swift Street."