beginning to grow very frightened and nervous,
for a new boy had been put into his class since the last examination,
and he feared the newcomer would supplant him, and get to the head.

So, as soon as the sad good-bye, told of in the first chapter of this
little tale, was said, and Harry had tried in vain to comfort his
mother, he got his books and set to work. And the clock ticked, and
Harry pored over his delectus; and in the corner Mrs Campbell sat and
wept.

Presently she called Harry to her.

"Harry, dear, I am better now; I won't cry any more. Come and sit by
me."

And so Harry went. And then she talked quietly to him about his work
at school, and how she hoped that one day he would be able to go to
Oxford. It was well for her, poor thing, she had these little
makeshifts for conversation. That which lay nearest her heart, was now
too much well-nigh for words to express.

"You are young now, dear boy, but still old enough to know that your
after-life depends on yourself; and if you work steadily on, you can
win a scholarship."

"What is a scholarship, mamma?"

"A sum of money, dear, which is allowed you every year while you are at
Oxford, to help to pay your expenses. Because, you know, papa couldn't
afford to pay all the money it would cost while you were there."

"And why couldn't you pay it, mamma?"

"I shall not be here then, dear boy," said Mrs Campbell, very softly.

"But you will be wherever I am, mamma."

"I shall be sleeping in the churchyard, darling boy; over yonder, under
the tall, grey tower."

Harry burst out impetuously:

"No, you shan't die, mamma! Why should you die? I won't let you go!"

And Harry sobbed as though his heart would break. For his sake, Mrs
Campbell seemed to win strength and quietness. And taking him gently
by the hand she led him upstairs to bed, sat by him till he was heavily
asleep, his face all stained with tears, and then went wearily
downstairs again, took her writing desk, and began a letter to her
husband.

CHAPTER IV.

WILTON SCHOOL.

The examination--Wilton school--Harry's class-room--Absorbed--Prized
possessions--Too busy--Cribbing--Misplaced sympathy--Harry blushes.

The morning sun shone brightly over Wilton as Harry started to school;
brightly over the dancing waters of the roadstead; and the seawind sang
gaily through the wave-washed piles of the pier. The school-bell was
ringing lustily as Harry passed through the iron gate