question, walked
somewhere else.

Wraysford was quite conscious of his own mistake; still it hurt him
sorely that his well-meant effort, which had cost him so much, should be
thus summarily thrust aside without a word. For the first time in his
life he felt a sense of resentment against his old friend, the beginning
of a gap which was destined to become wider as time went on.

The only person in the room who did meet Oliver on natural ground was
the poetic Simon. To him Oliver walked up and said, quietly, "I beg
your pardon for hitting you yesterday."

"Oh," said Simon, with a giggle. "Oh, it's all right, Greenfield, you
know; I never meant to let it out. It'll soon get hushed up; I don't
intend to let it go a bit farther."

The poet was too much carried away by the enthusiasm of his own
magnanimity to observe that he was in imminent risk, during the delivery
of this speech, of another blow a good deal more startling than that of
yesterday. When he concluded, he found Oliver had left him to himself
and hurriedly quitted the room.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE RESULT OF THE EXAMINATION.

The adventures of the morning did not certainly tend to make the Fifth
think better of Oliver Greenfield.

Had he appeared before them humble and penitent, there were some who
even then might have tried to forgive him and forget what was done. But
instead of that he was evidently determined to brazen the thing out, and
had begun by snubbing the very fellows whom he had so deeply injured.

Wraysford felt specially hurt. It had cost him a good deal to put on a
friendly air and speak as if nothing had happened; and to find himself
scorned for his pains and actually avoided by the friend who had wronged
him was too much. But even that would not have been so bad, had not
Oliver immediately gone and made up to Simon before all the class.

Wraysford did not remain to join in the chorus of indignation in which
the others indulged after morning school was over. He left them and
strolled out dismally into the playground.

He must do something! He must know one way or the other what to think
of Oliver. Even now he would gladly believe that it was all a dream,
and that nothing had come between him and his old friend. But the more
he pondered it the more convinced he became it was anything but a dream.

He wandered unconsciously beyond the playground towards the woods on the
side of the Shar, where he and Oliver had walked