ered from his fall. But to the high
and the generous, who have erred and have bewailed their error in
secret,--to them I appeal to imagine the anguish of self-reproach, the
bitterness of humiliation, which stung him in those few moments after
his first dishonour. It is the lofty tower that falls with the heaviest
crash; it is the stately soul that suffers the deepest abasement; it is
the white scutcheon on which the dark stain seems to wear its darkest
hue.

He had not sat there for many minutes--though to him they seemed like
hours--when a step on the stairs told him that his tutor's visitor had
departed, and the gyp blandly entering, observed--

"Now, sir, Mr Grayson can see you."

"Oh! very well," said Kennedy, rising and assuming, with a painful
effort, his most indifferent look and tone.

"Pardon me, Mr Kennedy, my turn first; I have been waiting longest,"
said a harsh voice behind him, that sounded mockingly to his excited
ear. He turned sharply round, and with a low bow and a curl on the
protruding lip, and a little guttural laugh, Brogten came from the inner
room, and passed before him into Mr Grayson's presence.

If a thunderbolt had suddenly fallen before Kennedy's feet and cloven
its sulphurous passage into the abyss, he could hardly have been more
startled or more alarmed. Without a word he sat down half stupefied.
Was any one else in the inner room? For very shame he dare not look.
Had Brogten seen him? If so, would he at once tell Mr Grayson? What
would be done in that case? Dare he deny the fact? Passionately he
spurned the hateful suggestion. Would Brogten tell all the Saint
Werner's men? Brogten of all others, whom he had publicly insulted and
branded with dishonour! Ah me, there is no anguish so keen, so
_deadly_, as the anguish of awakened shame!

With unspeakable anxiety Kennedy awaited Brogten's departure. Why
should he be so long? Surely he must be telling Mr Grayson.

At last the heavy step was heard, the door opened, and the gyp once more
announced that Mr Grayson was disengaged.

Pale and almost breathless, Kennedy went into the room.

"Good morning, Mr Kennedy."

"Good morning, sir."

He quite expected that Mr Grayson was about at once to address him on
the subject of the paper, and, expecting this, totally forgot the
purpose for which he had come. The tutor's cold eye was upon him, and
after a pause he said--

"Well, Mr Kennedy?"

"Well, sir?" he replied, with a