all; papa would not care about them."

"You see," said Harry, twisting a little, "I knew I ought not; but they
said I was afraid of a gun, and that I had no money. Now I see that was
chaff, but I didn't then, and Norman wasn't there."

"I am so glad you have told me all this, Harry dear, for I knew you had
been less at home of late, and I was almost afraid you were not going on
quite well."

"That's what it is," said Harry. "I can't stand things at all, and I
can't go moping about as Norman does. I can't live without fun, and now
Norman isn't here, half the time it turns to something I am sorry for
afterwards."

"But, Harry, if you let yourself be drawn into mischief here for want of
Norman, what would you do at sea?"

"I should be an officer!"

"I am afraid," said Margaret, smiling, "that would not make much
difference inside, though it might outside. You must get the
self-control, and leave off being afraid to be said to be afraid."

Harry fidgeted. "I should start fresh, and be out of the way of the
Andersons," he said. "That Anderson junior is a horrid fellow--he spites
Norman, and he bullied me, till I was big enough to show him that it
would not do--and though I am so much younger, he is afraid of me.
He makes up to me, and tries to get me into all the mischief that is
going."

"And you know that, and let him lead you? Oh, Harry!"

"I don't let him lead me," said Harry indignantly, "but I won't have
them say I can't do things."

Margaret laughed, and Harry presently perceived what she meant, but
instead of answering, he began to boast, "There never was a May in
disgrace yet, and there never shall be."

"That is a thing to be very thankful for," said Margaret, "but you know
there may be much harm without public disgrace. I never heard of one of
the Andersons being in disgrace yet."

"No--shabby fellows, that just manage to keep fair with old Hoxton, and
make a show," said Harry. "They look at translations, and copy old stock
verses. Oh, it was such fun the other day. What do you think? Norman
must have been dreaming, for he had taken to school, by mistake,
Richard's old Gradus that Ethel uses, and there were ever so many rough
copies of hers sticking in it."

"Poor Ethel! What consternation she would be in! I hope no one found it
out."

"Why, Anderson junior was gaping about in despair for sense for his
verses--he comes on that, and slyly copies a whole set of her old ones,
done when she--Norman,