Some of the glass in the window he had so often watched,
had been broken in the rough hurry of the morning, and that room
looked more deserted and dull than any. A group of idle urchins had
taken possession of the door-steps; some were plying the knocker
and listening with delighted dread to the hollow sounds it spread
through the dismantled house; others were clustered about the
keyhole, watching half in jest and half in earnest for 'the ghost,'
which an hour's gloom, added to the mystery that hung about the
late inhabitants, had already raised. Standing all alone in the
midst of the business and bustle of the street, the house looked a
picture of cold desolation; and Kit, who remembered the cheerful
fire that used to burn there on a winter's night and the no less
cheerful laugh that made the small room ring, turned quite
mournfully away.
It must be especially observed in justice to poor Kit that he was
by no means of a sentimental turn, and perhaps had never heard that
adjective in all his life. He was only a soft-hearted grateful
fellow, and had nothing genteel or polite about him; consequently,
instead of going home again, in his grief, to kick the children and
abuse his mother (for, when your finely strung people are out of
sorts, they must have everybody else unhappy likewise), he turned
his thoughts to the vulgar expedient of making them more
comfortable if he could.
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