"It was me," said I, coming out at last with my pent-up confession.

"I'm awfully sorry, Tempest. It was this--"

"Take a seat," said Tempest, putting me off in the identical way that Crofter had done yesterday. But I was not to be put off; I took a seat and continued--

"I met him and didn't know who he was, and I mentioned that I'd come from here, and that a tea was going on, and that Crofter was out of it, and the reason was because Tempest thought him a beast. And--I'm awfully sorry, Tempest--I let out to him that we'd been expelled from Dangerfield, and I'd not the least idea it was him."

"He," suggested Pridgin.

"He; and I've just been writing to him to explain."

"Rather a tough job, eh?" said Tempest.

"You may see the letter," said I.

The two seniors read it with a gravity which scarcely seemed genuine.

"I think it may pa.s.s," said Tempest, coming out at last with a laugh.

"There are only about twelve 'he's' and 'him's' in it, and as it will be absolutely unintelligible it can't possibly do harm."

"If Crofter has the least sense of literary taste, he will frame it,"

said Pridgin. "I trust no dogs' deaths will occur here."

My confusion was tempered by the relief I felt that they took my indiscretion in such good part, and saw only--what I failed to see myself--the humorous side of the incident.

I begged hard to be allowed to tear up my letter, but this they would by no means allow. On the contrary, I was compelled to address it and stamp it then and there, and place it in the post-box in the hall.

Then, with compliments and good wishes, I was dismissed to bed, and left the two friends talking school politics.

I felt a good deal more humbled by the manner in which they had received my confession than if they had, as I had expected, roundly abused me.

To be let down easy, as if I was barely responsible for my actions, was not conducive to my vanity; and if that was the object they had in view, it was amply attained. I went to bed on my second night at Low Heath with as little vanity in me as I could decently do with; and even that, as I lay awake for an hour or two, oozed away, and did not return till in a happy moment I fell asleep, and once more, and for a few unconscious hours, became a hero to myself.

The next morning I tumbled out of bed at the call of the bell in no very light-hearted way. First of all, Crofter would receive my letter; secondly, I had still got Redwood's belt; thirdly, I had not done my preparation; and fourthly, I felt concerned about Tempest and his alliance with the expensive Wales. Strangely enough, this last trouble weighed on me most as I dressed.

Tempest, I knew, was not well off. But he was proud, and not the sort of fellow to shirk a thing on account of the cost. I could remember at Dangerfield his spending all his money at the beginning of the term on an absurdly expensive cricket bag, and having to go without spikes in his shoes because he could not afford a set. At Low Heath, where seniors were allowed to run up bills in certain shops, I was certain his ignorance about money matters, added to the friendly encouragements of an exquisite like Wales, would make it all the worse for him. Why, even _I_ knew more about money than he did, and could reckon that if I brought thirteen shillings up at the beginning of the term, I should have just a shilling a week to bless myself with till break-up. Whereas he, I verily believe, would consider that he had thirteen shillings a week. And the worst of it was he would never let any one know how hard up he was, or tolerate any remarks, except from a privileged chum like Pridgin, on the subject.

As I joined my comrades in the f.a.ggery, in the fond hope of s.n.a.t.c.hing a precious quarter of an hour for my neglected studies, I found great excitement and jubilation afoot. The printer had sent home the handbills of the Conversation Club.

"That ought to do our business," said Langrish, flourishing one of the doc.u.ments in my face.

I took it, and read it with mingled pride and concern. It ran as follows:--

Under the distinguished Patronage of the n.o.bility and Gentry of Low Heath:

*A Philosophical Conversation Club* has been started for conversation on Philosophy, Picnics, and Cross-country Runs. Meetings weekly; to be announced. Subscription: Two shillings in advance; every member to find himself. No town-boys or masters eligible. "Come in your hundreds!!!

No questions asked. Evening dress or flannels. The Inaugural Picnic next week. Particulars on receipt of subscription. No connection with any other so-called club in Low Heath! For further particulars apply to the following:

Sarah Jones, Esquire, Pr.Ph.C.C, President.

Ted Langrish, Esquire, S.Ph.C.C, Secretary.

Wilfred Trimble, Esquire, T.Ph.C.C, Treasurer.

Jos. Warminster, Esquire, L.Ph.C.C, Librarian.

Tom c.o.xhead, Esquire, A.Ph.C.C, Auditor.

Michael Purkis, Esquire, R.Ph.C.C, Registrar.

P.S.--As the membership is strictly limited to 500, early application is advised. No eligible cash offer refused! Our motto is "_Mens sano in corpore sanae_."

I naturally bridled up at the record of my own name.

"Look here," said I; "you've stuck it down wrong again."

"Awfully sorry," said Langrish; "the printer chaps made a little slip over the Christian name, but all the rest seems right. It's wonderful how sharp they are, isn't it?"

"But you're going to have it corrected, surely?" said I.

"Why, it would cost a frightful lot!" protested the company. "We might alter it in ink, but that would only call attention to it. Bless you, no one will notice it. They'll put it down to a printer's error."

I was by no means satisfied, but their delight at the whole performance was so unbounded that it was impossible to be as angry as I felt.

"It'll draw, and no mistake," said Trimble, who had evidently never seen his name in print before. "Jolly well drawn up of you, Lang."

"Oh," said Langrish modestly, "when you know what you want to say, it's easy enough to stick it down."

"That's why you stuck down 'Sarah,' I suppose," said I, rather crossly.

"I never knew such a kid as you," retorted Langrish; "you seem to fancy n.o.body can think of anything but you and your washerwoman."

The conversation was drifting on to dangerous ground, and Warminster promptly changed the subject.

"The thing now will be to put the papers about. I vote we each take a batch and give them round."

"We might shove them under the fellows' doors," said c.o.xhead.

"The best way will be to do it in Big Hall," said the more practical Purkis. "One or two of us can easily get in ten minutes early, and stick one on every chap's place."

"But suppose you stick one on a day boy's place?" I suggested.

"What's the odds? the paper tells him he's out of it," replied Purkis.

It occurred to me that this would not cheer the day boy very much; still, on the whole, Purkis's suggestion seemed the best.

"I tell you what," said Langrish, "I beg to move and second that the President be authorised to stick round the papers."

"I third and fourth that," said Trimble.

"Carried unanimously," said Langrish.

"Look here, one of you had better do it," said I, feeling a little alarmed at this imposing honour; "you know the way better."

"That's where you've the pull," said Purkis; "you're a new kid, they won't interfere with you. Big Hall's at five, and you can easily slide in at a quarter to, and do the trick. Hullo, there's bell."