of Valpy and Arnold--`It's
me!'"

"Mr Wheeler wants to see you at once," said Josiah, not listening to
the criticism on his grammar, and addressing Forsyth.

"My tutor wants to see me? What on earth about, I wonder?"

Obviously, the best way to satisfy his curiosity on this head was to go
at once, and this he did.

Mr Wheeler sat at the paper-laden desk in his private study, under the
brilliant light of a lamp with a green glass shade over it. There was
no other light in the room, which was consequently in shadow, while the
tutor was in a flood of illumination.

"Sit down, Forsyth," he said. "I am sorry to say I have bad news for
you from home."

"My mother!"

"No, no, my boy; bad enough, but not so bad as that. There are money
losses. Your father was connected with a bank, and it has been
unfortunate. It seems that it was a great shock to him, and he was not
in very good health. You may have known that?"

"Yes, sir, yes. I noticed that he looked ill when I went home at
Christmas."

"To be sure--yes. Then you will not be surprised at this sudden blow
having affected him very seriously?"

Harry could not take it all in at once; he had to sit silent awhile, and
let the meaning of his tutor's words sink in. At length he asked--"Is
he dead?" And the sound of his own voice uttering the word made him
give a sob.

"No," said Mr Wheeler; "he is very ill, and insensible, but living, and
while there is life there is hope, you know. People often recover from
fits, and this seems to be an attack of that nature. But it is as well
that you should go home at once. Put a few things together, and you
will catch the 8:30 train. A fly and your travelling money shall be
ready by the time you are."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, and went back to his Dame's House in a
dazed state. Strachan and Kavanagh heard him come upstairs, and as he
went straight to his own room they followed him.

"Well, have you got the medal for alcaics?" asked Strachan, for they had
concluded that that was the news his tutor had for him. But seeing his
friend's face he stopped short.

"Something the matter, old fellow, I am afraid," he said. "Bad news
from home?"

"Yes," said Harry, in a voice he just kept from faltering. "I must go
home to-night; my father is ill."

"I am awfully sorry," said Strachan, uncomfortably, wanting to do
something to aid or cheer his friend, and unable to think what.
Kavanagh made no remark, but, s