ford asked me to go in and see him. Come, too, old man."

But Railsford had nothing to suggest. He explained dejectedly the
effect of the doctor's sentence. It meant that his house was out of
everything in the playing-fields; and that, as for himself, he was as
much excluded as his boys. And he confirmed Ainger's opinion that it
was utterly useless to appeal further to the doctor.

"It would be only fair, sir," said Smedley, "for you to take back the
prize and subscription you offered for the sports."

"Certainly not, my dear fellow," said the master. "If I cannot take
part in the sports in person, at least I would like to have some finger
in the pie."

That was all that passed.

"I like Railsford," said Smedley; "he's genuinely cut up."

"It's awfully rough on him," replied Ainger.

The two friends said good-bye.

"By the way, Smedley," said Ainger, calling the captain back, "I may as
well tell you, we are going to have our revenge for all this."

"What!" said Smedley, rather alarmed. "Surely you're not going to--"

"To roast the doctor? No. But we're going to make this the crack house
of the school in spite of him."

Smedley laughed.

"Good! You've a busy time before you, old man. I'll promise to keep it
dark--ha! ha!"

"You may think it a joke, dear old chap," said Ainger, standing at the
door and watching his retreating figure, "but even the captain of
Grandcourt will have to sit up by-and-by."

Smedley, the brave and impetuous, walked straight from Railsford's to
the doctor's. He knew his was a useless mission, but he wasn't going to
shirk it. The doctor would snub him and tell him to mind his own
affairs; "but"--so said the hero to himself--"what do I care? I'll tell
him a piece of my mind, and if he like to tell me a piece of his, that's
only fair. Here goes!"

The doctor was engaged in his study, said the servant; but if Mr
Smedley would step into the drawing-room he would come in a few minutes.
Smedley stepped into the dimly-lighted drawing-room accordingly, which,
to his consternation, he found already had an occupant. The doctor's
niece was at the piano.

Smedley, for once in a way, behaved like a coward, and having advanced a
step or two into the room, suddenly turned tail and retreated.

"Don't go, Mr Smedley," said a pleasant voice behind him. "Uncle will
be here in a minute."

"Oh, I--good-evening, Miss Violet. I'm afraid of--"

"Not of me, are you? I'll go if you