"We were, fair queen,
Two lads that thought there was no more behind,
But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
And to be boy eternal."--WINTER'S TALE, i. 2.

The holidays were over. Vernon was to have a tutor at Fairholm, and Eric
was to return alone, and be received into Dr. Rowlands' house.

As he went on board the steam-packet, he saw numbers of the well-known
faces on deck, and merry voices greeted him.

"Hallo, Williams! here you are at last," said Duncan, seizing his hand.
"How have you enjoyed the holidays? It's so jolly to see you again."

"So you're coming as a boarder," said Montagu, "and to our noble house,
too. Mind you stick up for it, old fellow. Come along, and let's watch
whether the boats are bringing any more fellows; we shall be starting in
a few minutes."

"Ha! there's Russell," said Eric, springing to the gangway, and warmly
shaking his friend's hand as he came on board.

"Have your father and mother gone, Eric?" said Russell, after a few
minutes' talk.

"Yes," said Eric, turning away his head, and hastily brushing his eyes.
"They are on their way back to India."

"I'm so sorry," said Russell; "I don't think anyone has ever been so
kind to me as they were."

"And they loved you, Edwin, dearly, and told me, almost the last thing,
that they hoped we should always be friends. Stop! they gave me
something for you." Eric opened his carpet-bag, and took out a little
box carefully wrapped up, which he gave to Russell. It contained a
pretty silver watch, and inside the case was engraved--"Edwin Russell,
from the mother of his friend Eric."

The boy's eyes glistened with joyful surprise. "How good they are," he
said; "I shall write and thank Mrs. Williams directly we get to Roslyn."

They had a fine bright voyage, and arrived that night. Eric, as a new
comer, was ushered at once into Dr. Rowlands' drawing-room, where the
head master was sitting with his wife and children. His greeting was
dignified, but not unkindly; and, on saying "good night," he gave Eric a
few plain words of affectionate advice.

At that moment Eric hardly cared for advice. He was full of life and
spirits, brave, bright, impetuous, tingling with hope, in the flush and
flower of boyhood. He bounded down the stairs, and in another minute
entered the large room where all Dr. Rowlands' boarders assembled, and
where most of them lived, except the few privileged sixth form, and
other boys who had "studies." A cheer