illed Reginald's mind, and kept him awake long after
all besides in the room were asleep.

CHAPTER IV.

The next morning, after the early school-hours, Doctor Wilkinson kept
Reginald back as he was following the stream to breakfast, and led
the way into the class-room, where, after closing the door, he seated
himself, and motioning Reginald to draw closer to him, thus opened
his inquiry.

"I wish to know, Mortimer, how this affair began last night: it appears,
from all I can make out, to have been a most unprovoked attack on your
part, but as there is often more than appears on the surface, I shall
be glad to hear what you have to allege in extenuation of your savage
conduct."

Reginald colored very deeply, and dropping his eyes under the piercing
gaze of his master, remained silent.

"Am I to conclude from your silence that you have no excuse to make?"
asked the doctor in a tone of mixed sorrow and indignation; "and am I
to believe that from some petty insult you have allowed your temper
such uncontrolled sway as nearly to have cost your cousin his life?"

"I had very great provocation," said Reginald, sullenly.

"And what might that be?" asked his master. "If the wrong be on Digby's
side, you can have no hesitation in telling me what the wrong was."

Reginald made no answer, and, after a pause, Dr. Wilkinson continued:
"Unless you can give me some reason, I must come to the conclusion
that you have again given way to your violent passions without even
the smallest excuse of injury from another. The assertion that you
have been 'provoked' will not avail you much: I know that Digby is
teasing and provoking, and is therefore very wrong, but if you cannot
bear a little teasing, how are you to get on in the world? You are
not a baby now, though you have acted more like a wild beast than
a reasonable creature. I am willing and desirous to believe that
something more than usual has been the cause of this ebullition of
temper, for I hoped lately that you were endeavoring to overcome this
sad propensity of yours."

"I assure you, sir," said Reginald, raising his open countenance to his
master's, "I tried very much to bear with Frank, and I think I should
if he had not said so much about--about--"

Here Reginald's voice failed; a sensation of choking anger prevented
him from finishing his sentence.

"About what?" said the doctor, steadily.

"About my brother," said Reginald, abruptly.

"And what did he