rtram's voice, "I know you are there."

Wilkinson still sat silent. He had not seen Bertram since the lists
had come out, and he could hardly make up his mind whether he could
speak to him or no.

"I know you're there, and I'll have the door down if you don't
open it. There's nobody with me," shouted the manly voice of his
triumphant friend.

Slowly Wilkinson got up and undid the lock. He tried to smile as he
opened the door; but the attempt was a failure. However, he could
still speak a few words, heavy as his heart was.

"I have to congratulate you," said he to Bertram, "and I do it with
all my heart."

There was very little heart in the tone in which this was spoken; but
then, what could be expected?

"Thank'ee, old fellow, I'm sure you do. Come, Wilkinson, give us your
hand. It's better to have it all out at once. I wish you'd had more
luck, and there's an end of it. It's all luck, you know."

"No, it's not," said Wilkinson, barely able to suppress the tears.

"Every bit of it. If a chap gets a headache, or a fit of the colic,
it's all up with him. Or if he happens to have been loose as to some
pet point of the examiners, it's all up with him. Or if he has taken
a fad into his head, and had a pet point of his own, it's all up with
him then, too, generally. But it will never do, Wilkinson, to boody
over these things. Come, let you and I be seen walking together;
you'll get over it best in that way. We'll go over to Parker's, and
I'll stand a lunch. We'll find Gerard, and Madden, and Twisleton
there. Twisleton's so disgusted at getting a fourth. He says he won't
take it, and swears he'll make them let him go out in the ruck."

"He's got as much as he thought he'd get, at any rate, and therefore
he can't be unhappy."

"Unhappy! who's unhappy? Nonsense, my dear fellow. Shy all that to
the dogs. Come, let's go over to Parker's; we shall find Harcourt
there. You know he's up, don't you?"

"No; and I had rather not meet him just at present."

"My dear fellow, you must get over that."

"That's all very well for you, who have got nothing to get over."

"And have I never had anything to get over? I'll tell you what it is;
I've come here to prevent you from moping, and I don't mean to leave
you. So, you see, you may as well come with me at first."

With some little hesitation, Wilkinson made his friend understand
that he had not yet written home, and that he could not go out till
he had done so.

"Then I'l