"Now, Aunt Daisy, will you direct this, please?" asked Arthur.

"Oh, but you are such a great boy! I think you had better do it yourself,"

said his aunt.

"Shall I? Can I? I never did before; but I daresay I could," Arthur said, and he was half pleased and half afraid.

"Will that do?" he asked, after a long time had been spent, very carefully trying to write his best on the thin envelope.

"Why, Arthur, you are getting out of practice with your writing, I should think," said his aunt. And she thought this might lead on to her proposal, about the school.

"No; I don't write well, I know," said Arthur; "but I try; and I heard some one once say, that it is not always the most stupid people who write the worst."

Mrs. Estcourt laughed.

"No, my dear little boy, I did not say it was. But, dear Arthur, seriously, I think you ought to write better, and I am afraid you will be getting bad habits. Don't you think it would be a good thing for you to begin school?"

"What, the boys' school that mother told me about? Oh, I was hoping you were going to say something about that! Shall I soon be able to go?"

"Do you want to go?" asked his aunt, astonished.

"Oh, yes! I should think so."

"Then, my dear boy, you shall begin to-morrow, if you like. I have spoken to Mr. Carey about your coming; so I can send over a note this evening to let him know."

The remainder of that day Arthur could scarcely think of anything else than the prospect that was before him on the morrow--his first entering on school-life. Many were the wonderings and conjectures that went on in his mind, as to what kind of a person the master would be--whether he would like the boys, if he would be strict and cross, and if the lessons would be very difficult. But he was quite decided on one point, that he would much rather be going to school every day, and have something to do, than loiter away his time in the house and garden at home.

So the next morning, after Arthur had finished his breakfast, it required little persuasion from his aunt to make him start for Mr. Carey's school.

The house was about an hour's walk from Myrtle Hill, and it must be confessed that on his way Arthur's heart began to fail him a little, when he thought of encountering so many strange faces. Just as he approached the house the clock struck nine; and as Arthur entered the large iron gate, he caught sight of some thirty or forty boys rushing across the play-ground, some tumbling over the others, to be in their seats by the time the last stroke of the clock sounded. Arthur thought the best thing he could do would be to follow them; so keeping in sight two or three boys who had loitered after the others, he walked behind them, up a long pa.s.sage; till he reached a door leading into the school-room. He pushed it open so quietly that he was not heard, and had time to take a good view of the room and its occupants. It was large and s.p.a.cious. All down one side there was a long desk fixed against the wall, where numbers of boys were sitting, engaged in writing or doing their sums. Then there were several tables, round which the different cla.s.ses were seated on forms. The walls were hung with maps, and there were two large globes in a corner of the room. All this Arthur took in, in a very short time; and his eyes quickly travelled to the top of the room, where Mr. Carey was standing at his desk. He was rather thin and tall, with a very grave face, which made Arthur feel rather awed; but it was not a cross face.

Presently he looked up, and saw Arthur standing at the door. He had already been prepared for his appearance by a note from Mrs. Estcourt; so he knew at once who he was.

"So you have come, Vivyan," he said. "Step up here, my boy."

Arthur advanced to the desk with rather a trembling step, and then had to submit to a number of questions from Mr. Carey to test his knowledge; after which he was put into one of the lower divisions of the school. It was all new to him to-day; so the hours pa.s.sed quickly away, and Arthur was quite ready again for afternoon school when the time came.

So the days went on--one very like the other--and things were seeming less strange as Arthur was getting to know the boys better, and to feel more at home with them.

There was one boy in Mr. Carey's school who seemed different from all the rest. His name was Edgar North, and he was about Arthur's own age. Some of the boys said he was delicate, and others told Arthur that he was a m.u.f.f.

Whatever it was, he seemed to stay outside the rest. He was very often in disgrace; not for lessons badly done, although it might have been so, but Mr. Carey was very indulgent to him, on account of his weakness, but for rules broken through, for quarrels with the other boys, or disrespect to the teachers. He did not seem happy; there was generally a cloud on his brow, and a weariness and discontent in his manner. Arthur sometimes wondered why. Might it be on account of his delicacy and his cough, that very often he was obliged to stay at home, when the others joined in some country expedition, and that sometimes, when the game was at its height of interest, his quick, short breathing obliged him to leave off and sit down away from the rest? It would be very trying, certainly; Arthur was quite sure of that. He thought a good deal about Edgar North, and he could see that the other boys did not like him; to tell the truth, Arthur did not himself, but he was very sorry for him when he saw him sometimes all alone, when the others were at play. One fine, sunny half-holiday, when school had been closed for the day, and both boarders and day-scholars were deep in the interest of cricket, Arthur had lingered behind the others to put his books together in readiness for going home, and a message from Mr. Carey to his aunt had detained him still longer, so that by the time he reached the cricket-ground the game had begun. One of the older boys called to him to make haste; but Arthur seemed in no haste, and, unlike his usual way at this time, he seemed to be in deep meditation.

"Come, make haste," said his companion. "Why don't you come on?"

But still Arthur stood; for something had made him pause. It was Edgar North's listless figure, half sitting and half lying under a large tree in a field a little distance off, with a very discontented, unhappy face.

"I think I won't play to-day, I've got something else to do; I'm going for a walk."

"What on earth is that for?" said the older boy; "I thought you were wild for this game to-day."

He was not so very sorry, however; for Arthur was playing on the opposite side, and he knew by experience, that his vigorous little arms made a great difference sometimes.

"Well, please yourself. What shall I say when the others ask about you?"

"Say I have gone out for a walk."

"All right," said the other, and he walked away.

It was not without a very great struggle that Arthur had been able to say this. It was not without more than one earnest prayer, that he had been able to resist the strong temptation. He had been feeling very happy that morning in thinking of his mother's text: "Whose I am." And his heart had risen in gladness and thankfulness to the Lord who had bought him; and now there was a golden opportunity before him of doing something to prove his love, and of letting it be true of him "whom I serve." Edgar North was not happy, and the others had left him all by himself. It must be very bitter to him to see from a distance the wild enjoyment of their game, without being able to take any part in it. Arthur knew how he would feel it himself, and a thought came across his mind that he could make it less sad for Edgar; that he could offer to go for a walk with him; and that this kindness to another would be pleasing to his Master. But then glowing thoughts of the game's enjoyments came across his mind; his hands and feet were burning to run to the cricket-ground, and take part there, with all the energy of his young spirits, while the picture of a solitary walk with Edgar North came before his mind in very gloomy contrast. Then a voice seemed to speak in his heart: "I love you, my own. I gave myself for you.

Follow me."

The tears came into Arthur's eyes, and he looked up to where the blue was covered with little white clouds, and the sun's light was shining; and his heart whispered the words which only One could hear: "Lord Jesus, I will."

Arthur had to go over some little distance, before he reached Edgar North.

He found him sitting on the soft gra.s.s, underneath a large tree. He seemed to have been trying to carve his name; for a large E and half of an N were there. But he was tired of that; and a book he had brought with him seemed to have proved equally unsatisfying; for it was lying closed at his feet. He seemed very much surprised at seeing Arthur; but all he said, when he came near was: "Well?" Arthur did not quite know what to say himself, but he asked him after a moment--

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Not particularly," said Edgar, not very graciously.

"Why, I thought you liked walking. I heard you saying so last week."

"I liked it last week; but I couldn't have it then. People can't always like the same things. I thought you liked cricket."

"Oh, so I do! I should think I did just!" said Arthur emphatically; and he could not help thinking of how much more he liked it, than talking to such a disagreeable companion as Edgar was now. It needed another remembrance of the voice in his heart.

"Well, why don't you play then? the others are playing."

"Why, I thought you might like to go for a walk."

Edgar pulled bits of bark off the tree, and threw them on the ground. Then he looked up in Arthur's face with a half laugh. "Well, you are queer.

Perhaps I should like a walk. Where shall we go?" he said, rising suddenly.

"I don't mind," Arthur said, "except that dusty old road."

"The woods then," said Edgar, "and then we should be less likely to meet that Carey. I hate having to speak to him."

They walked on for some distance, without saying very much. Arthur found conversation with his companion rather difficult to keep up; most of his questions were answered by "yes" or "no;" and to anything that he said, not requiring an answer, Edgar gave a short laugh.

"There'll be lots of wild strawberries here soon," he said; "don't you like them?"

"Pretty well," said Edgar listlessly, "when I can't get others."

Arthur was beginning to think he had better say nothing, when suddenly the other boy turned to him, and said curiously--

"I suppose it was because you are converted that you came?"

"Yes," Arthur answered.

"How did you know I was?" he asked, after some little time, when they had walked on in silence.