ures we have been speaking of took place when Power had
been staying out of school with a severe cold, and being in the sickroom
had not seen Daubeny at all. He had come out again on the morning when,
after Daubeny's failure, Mr Robertson had called him incorrigibly
slothful and incapable, and after muttering some more invectives had
said something about his being hopeless. As he listened to the master's
remarks, although he knew that they only arose from misconception,
Power's cheeks flushed up with painful surprise, and his eyes sparkled
with indignation for his friend. He wanted Daubeny to tell Mr
Robertson how many hours he had spent in being "incorrigibly slothful"
over that particular lesson, but this at the time he could not get him
to do. "Besides," said Daubeny, "if he knows me to be quite hopeless"--
and here the poor boy grew scarlet as he recalled the undeserved
insult--"it's no disgrace to me to fail."

When detention was over, Power sought out his friend, and found him
sitting on the top of a little hill by the side of the river, alone, and
with a most forlornly disconsolate air. Power saw that he had been
crying bitterly, but had too much good taste to take any notice of the
fact.

"Well, Power, you see what credit I get, and yet you know how I try.
I'm a `bad, idle boy,' it seems, and `incorrigibly slothful,' and
`hardly fit for the school,' and `I must be put down to a lower form if
I don't make more effort'--oh! I forgot though, you heard it all
yourself. So you know my character," he said, with a melancholy smile.

"Never mind, old fellow. You've done your best, and none of us can do
more. You know the soldier's epitaph--`Here lies one who tried to do
his duty'--a prince could not have better, and you deserve that if
anyone ever did."

"I wish I were you, Power," said Daubeny; "you are so clever, you can
learn the lessons in no time; everyone likes you, and you get no end of
credit, while I'm a mere butt, and when I've worked hard it's a case of
_Kathedeitai honos_, as the lesson-book says."

"Pooh, Dubbs," said Power, kindly putting his arm on his shoulder;
"you're just as happy as I am. A fellow with a clear conscience _can't_
be in low spirits very long. Don't you remember the pretty verse I read
to you the other day, and which made me think of you while I read it--

"`Days that, in spite
Of darkness, by the light
Of a clear mind are day all night?'"

"Don't think I _envy_