rty minutes to bring him to, and all the time the
odour of grilled herrings, which formed part of the uneaten tea, made
itself felt through the house like a Satanic comment on the spectacle
of human life. The scene was dreadful at first. The agony then passed.
There were no bruises on the boy, not a mark, and in a couple of hours
he seemed to be perfectly himself. Horace breathed again, and thanked
Heaven it was no worse. His gratitude to Heaven was, however, slightly
premature, for in the black middle of the night poor Sidney was seized
with excruciating pains in the head, and the doctor lost four hours'
sleep. These pains returned at intervals of a few days, and naturally
the child's convalescence was retarded. Then Horace said that Airs
Carpole should take Sidney to Buxton for a fortnight, and he paid all
the expenses of the trip out of his savings. He was desolated, utterly
stricken; he said he should never forgive himself. Sidney improved,
slowly.

II

After several months, during which Horace had given up all his limited
spare time to the superintendence of the child's first steps in
knowledge, Sidney was judged to be sufficiently strong to go to school,
and it was arranged that he should attend the Endowed School at the
Wedgwood Institution. Horace accompanied him thither on the opening day
of the term--it was an inclement morning in January--and left the young
delicate sprig, apparently joyous and content, to the care of his
masters and the mercy of his companions. But Sidney came home for
dinner weeping--weeping in spite of his new mortar-board cap, his new
satchel, his new box of compasses, and his new books. His mother kept
him at home in the afternoon, and by the evening another of those
terrible attacks had supervened. The doctor and Horace and Mrs Carpole
once more lost much precious sleep. The mysterious malady continued.
School was out of the question.

And when Sidney took the air, in charge of his mother, everybody
stopped to sympathize with him and to stroke his curls and call him a
poor dear, and also to commiserate Mrs Carpole. As for Horace, Bursley
tried to feel sorry for Horace, but it only succeeded in showing Horace
that it was hiding a sentiment of indignation against him. Each
friendly face as it passed Horace in the street said, without words,
'There goes the youth who probably ruined his young stepbrother's life.
And through sheer obstinacy too! He dropped the little darling in s