f comfortable, my boy, while the tea is brewing," said Mr
Rastle, cheerily. "Have you been playing any cricket since you came?"

"Only a little, sir," said Stephen.

"Well, if you only turn out as good a bat as your brother--how well he
played in the Alphabet Match!"

Stephen was reviving fast now, and embarked on a lively chat about his
favourite sport, by the end of which the tea was brewed, and he and Mr
Rastle sitting "cheek by jowl" at the table, with the muffins and jam
between them.

Presently Mr Rastle steered the talk round to Stephen's home, a topic
even more delightful than cricket. The boy launched out into a full
account of the old house and his mother, till the tears very nearly
stood in his eyes and the muffins very nearly stuck in his throat. Mr
Rastle listened to it all with a sympathetic smile, throwing in
questions now and then which it charmed the boy to answer.

"And how do you like Saint Dominic's?" presently inquired the master.
"I suppose you've made plenty of friends by this time?"

"Oh yes, sir. It's not as slow as it was at first."

"That's right. You'll soon get to feel at home. And how do you think
you are getting on in class?"

Stephen was astonished at this question. If any one knew how he was
getting on in class Mr Rastle did, and, alas! Mr Rastle must know
well enough that Stephen was getting on badly.

"Not very well, I'm afraid, sir, thank you," replied the boy, not
feeling exactly comfortable.

"Not? That's a pity. Are the lessons too hard for you?" kindly
inquired Mr Rastle.

"No, I don't think so--that is--no, they're not, sir."

"Ah, your Latin exercise I thought was very fair in parts to-day."

Stephen stared at his master, and the master looked very pleasantly at
Stephen.

"I copied it off Raddleston," said the boy, in a trembling voice, and
mentally resigning himself to his fate.

"Ah!" said Mr Rastle, laughing; "it's a funny thing, now, Greenfield, I
knew that myself. No two boys could possibly have translated `nobody'
into `_nullus corpus_' without making common cause!"

Stephen was desperately perplexed. He had expected a regular row on the
head of his confession, and here was his master cracking jokes about the
affair!

"I'm very sorry I did it. I won't do it again," said he. "That's
right, my boy; Raddleston isn't infallible. Much better do it yourself.
I venture to say, now, you can tell me what the Latin for `nobody' is
without a dicti