One of these was a youth, scarcely more than a boy, with a very pale, thoughtful face.

He was poorly dressed, but respectable.

A book was generally tucked under his arm, and very often I could see his lips moving, as if repeating something to himself.
He paid me more attention than anybody.

Every time he passed the shop he halted and looked at me, as I thought, wistfully, and usually appeared relieved to find me still in my place.
"George Reader's took a fancy to the new watch, I can see," I heard Mr Argent say one day to his wife.
He spoke, let me observe, in a very broad country dialect, which I do not feel equal to reproducing here.
"Poor lad!" said Mrs Argent; "I dare say he'd like to have it in his pocket when he goes to college." "He is going, then ?" "Yes, for certain; the clergyman says it would be a sin for a boy of his cleverness not to go, and so I think." "Well, learning's a great thing; and when a gamekeeper's son does take a fit of it, I suppose it's all right to humour it.

But you and I, wife, can get on very well without it." "Speak for yourself," retorted Mrs Argent; "I wish you had half as much in your head as that boy has got, that's all!" "And I suppose you wish you'd got the other half, eh?
Stuff!" And after this little tiff the worthy couple were silent for a while.
Presently Mrs Argent again spoke.