m very efficient help.

At the top they rested for some time, eating their scanty lunch,
chatting, and enjoying the matchless splendour of the prospect which
stretched in a cloudless expanse before them on every side.

"Power," said Walter, in a pause of their talk, "I've long been meaning
to ask you a favour."

"It's granted, then," said Power, "if _you_ ask it, Walter."

"I'm not so sure; it's a very serious favour, and it isn't for myself;
moreover, it's very cool."

"The greater it is, the more I shall know that you trust my friendship,
Walter; and, if it's cool, it suits the time and place."

"Yet, I bet you that you'll hesitate when I propose it."

"Well, out with it; you make me curious."

"It is that you'd give little Eden the run of your study."

"Little Eden the run of my study! O, yes, if you wish it," said Power,
not liking to object after what he had said, but flushing up a little,
involuntarily. It was indeed a great favour to ask. Power's study was
a perfect sanctum; he had furnished it with such rare good taste, that,
when you entered, your eye was attracted by some pretty print or neat
contrivance wherever you looked. It was Power's peculiar pride and
pleasure to beautify his little room, and to sit there with any one whom
he liked; but to give up his privacy, and let a little scapegrace like
Eden have the free run of it, was a proposition which took him by
surprise. Yet it was a good deal for Power's own sake that Walter had
ventured to ask it. Power's great fault was his over-refinement; the
fastidiousness which marred his proper influence, made him unpopular
with many boys, and shut him up in a reserved and introspective habit of
mind. By a kind of instinct, Walter felt that it would be good to
disturb this epicurean indifference to the general interests of the
school, and the kind of intellectualism which weakened the character of
this attractive and affectionate, yet shy and self-involved boy. "Ah, I
see," said Walter archly; "you're as bad as Kenrick; you Priests and
Levites won't touch my poor little wounded traveller."

"But I don't see what I could do for him," said Power; "I shouldn't know
what to talk to him about."

"O, yes, you would; you don't know how his gratitude would pay you for
the least interest shown in him. He's been so shamefully bullied, poor
little chap, I hardly like to tell you even the things that that big
brute Harpour has made him do. He came here bri