ed improvement. You will have something to
bear, no doubt, but do not let it weigh on you too heavily; and as for
me, I will try henceforth to be your friend."

What could Walter do but seize his hand and clasp it earnestly, and sob
out the broken incoherent thanks which were more eloquent than connected
words.

"And now, Walter, you are free," said Mr Paton. "From _us_ you will
hear no more of this offence. It is nearly dinner-time. Come; I will
walk with you to hall."

He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and they walked downstairs and
across the court. Walter was deeply grateful that he did so, for he had
heard rumours of the scorn and indignation with which the news of his
conduct had been received by the elder and more influential portions of
the school. He had dreaded unspeakably the first occasion when it would
be necessary to meet them again, but he felt that Mr Paton's
countenance and kindness had paved the way for him, and smoothed his
most formidable trial. It had been beyond his warmest hopes that he
should be able to face them so. He had never dared to expect this open
proof, that the person who had suffered chiefly from this act would also
be the first to show that he had not cast him off as helpless or
worthless, but was ready to receive him into favour once again.

The corridor was full of boys waiting for the dinner bell, and they
divided respectfully to leave a passage for Mr Paton, and touched their
hats as he passed them with his hand still on Walter's shoulder, while
Walter walked with downcast eyes beside him, not once daring to look up.
And as the boy passed them, humbled and penitent, with Mr Paton's hand
resting upon him, there was not one of those who saw it that did not
learn from that sight a lesson of calm forgiveness as noble and as
forcible as any lesson which they could learn at Saint Winifred's
School.

Walter sat at dinner pale and crying, but unpitied. "Alas for the
rarity of Christian charity under the sun!"--the worst construction had
assiduously been put upon what he had done, and nearly all the boys
hastily condemned it, not only as an ungentlemanly, but also as an
inexcusable and unpardonable act. One after another, as they passed him
after dinner, they cut him dead. Several of the masters, including Mr
Percival, whom Walter had hitherto loved and respected more than any of
them, because he had been treated by him with marked kindness, did the
same. Walter met