What could that old fashion be, that seemed to make the people sorry! What could it be! Having nothing to learn now, he thought of this frequently; though not so often as he might have done, if he had had fewer things to think of.
But he had a great many; and was always thinking, all day long.
First, there was Florence coming to the party.

Florence would see that the boys were fond of him; and that would make her happy.

This was his great theme.

Let Florence once be sure that they were gentle and good to him, and that he had become a little favourite among them, and then the would always think of the time he had passed there, without being very sorry.

Florence might be all the happier too for that, perhaps, when he came back.
When he came back! Fifty times a day, his noiseless little feet went up the stairs to his own room, as he collected every book, and scrap, and trifle that belonged to him, and put them all together there, down to the minutest thing, for taking home! There was no shade of coming back on little Paul; no preparation for it, or other reference to it, grew out of anything he thought or did, except this slight one in connexion with his sister.