he stood pointing to
the drawing on the board, his face pale, his eyes fascinated by those
of Mrs. Tootle. The latter went on in a high note.

"Well, sir, as soon as you have had enough of your insulting
buffoonery, perhaps you will have the goodness to attend to me, and to
your duty! What do you mean by allowing the dormitories to get into
this state of uproar? There's been a pillow-fight going on for the last
half-hour, and you pay no sort of attention; the very house is shaking?"

"I protest I had not heard a sound, ma'am, or I should have--"

"Perhaps you hear nothing now, sir,--and the doctor suffering from one
of his very worst headaches, utterly unable to rest even if the house
were perfectly quiet!"

O'Gree darted to the door, past Mrs. Tootle, and was lost to sight.
There was indeed a desperate uproar in the higher regions of the house.
In a moment the noise increased considerably. O'Gree had rushed up
without a light, and was battling desperately in the darkness with a
score of pillow-fighters, roaring out threats the while at the top of
his voice. Mrs. Tootle retired from the masters' room with much
affectation of dignity, leaving the door open behind her.

Waymark slammed it to, and turned with a laugh to the poor Swiss.

"In low spirits to-night, I'm afraid, Mr. Egger?"

Egger let his chair tilt forward, rose slowly, drew a yellow
handkerchief from his mouth and wiped his eyes with it, then exclaimed,
in the most pitiful voice--

"Mr. Waymark, I have made my possible!--I can no more!"

It was his regular phrase on these occasions; Waymark had always much
ado to refrain from laughter when he heard it repeated, but he did his
best to be seriously sympathetic, and to attempt consolation in such
German as was at his command. Egger's despondency only increased, and
he wept afresh to hear accents which were intelligible to him. Mr.
O'Gree re-entered the room, and the Swiss retired to his comer.

Philip was hot with excitement and bodily exertion; he came in mopping
his forehead, and, without turning to Waymark, stood with eyes fixed on
the chalk caricatures. Very gradually he turned round. Waymark was
watching him, on his face an expression of subdued mirth. Their looks
met, and both exploded in laughter.

"Bedad, my boy," exclaimed O'Gree, "I'm devilish sorry! I wouldn't have
had it happen for a quarter's salary,--though I sadly need a new pair
of breeches. She's a supercilious cat-o-mountain, and s