iting, or
scratching their heads (a process commonly supposed to assist
meditation), save one, and that was Egerton. But he was not idle. He
was busy, a great deal too much so.

In his lap lay an open book. His desk, of course, concealed this from
Mr Prichard, and from the rest of the room, except Harry; who, as he
sat in the same row with him, alone could see; for Egerton's jacket,
carefully pulled forward, screened his proceedings from the boy on his
other side. His eyes were greedily fixed on the book; then he would
write a little, then look again, then write again. He was cribbing.

Harry was so thunderstruck that he stared open-mouthed at him. Just
then he heard Mr Prichard's voice, sterner than usual: "Campbell, what
are you looking at, sir?" Poor Harry's heart sank within him. He
could not, would not, tell; that would be sneaking. And yet he knew
from the way in which Mr Prichard spoke that he suspected him of
looking over Egerton's paper. The fact was, Mr Prichard had turned
round suddenly, and catching Harry's eyes strained eagerly in the
direction of Egerton's desk, had naturally imagined that he, and not
Egerton, was taking an unfair advantage. Those few words of his sowed
a crop of prejudice among the boys against Harry. "Campbell's been
caught cribbing off Egerton," was what rose to the mind and lips of
all; and a sort of sympathy grew up in favour of the true culprit,
because it appeared that he had been the sufferer.

Naturally enough, there was a slight commotion in the room, and this
gave Egerton ample opportunity to hide his book by sitting on it,
or--but we must not anticipate.

Soon after, Harry finished his paper, folded it, and walked to Mr
Prichard's desk; in his hurry, leaving his own open at the time. As he
handed in his work he said, stammering: "I wasn't looking at Egerton's
paper, sir; indeed I wasn't," and then blushed crimson. Mr Prichard
said nothing, but looked very hard at him, and this made Harry blush
the more. Then he went back to his desk (which he never noticed was
now closed), locked it, and sat quietly till the class was dismissed;
and shortly after was running home to his mother.

CHAPTER V.

MOTHER AND SON.

Very miserable--Past hope--Mother and son--Breaking
down--Resignation--"It is well."

The doctor's carriage with the broken-winded pony was standing at the
door of the farm. Mrs Valentine had just come out, and was talking to
the doctor's l