ld indeed."

"So, to escape a little personal inconvenience, you would be content to
bring sorrow upon your worthy father's grey head, would you, sir?" said
the Doctor. "I shall not oblige you in this. Nor, I may add, will your
cowardice induce me to spare you in your coming chastisement. I leave
you, sir--we shall meet again at eleven!"

And he stalked out of the room. Perhaps, though he did not admit this
even to himself, there were more considerations for commuting the
sentence of expulsion than those he had mentioned. Boys are not often
expelled from private schools, except for especially heinous offences,
and in this case there was no real reason why the Doctor should be
Quixotic enough to throw up a portion of his income--particularly if he
could produce as great a moral effect by other means.

But his clemency was too much for Mr. Bultitude; he threw himself on the
bed and raved at the hideous fate in store for him; ten short minutes
ago, and he had been so happy--so certain of release--and now, not only
was he as far from all hope of escape as ever, but he had the certainty
before him of a sound flogging in less than two hours!

Just after something has befallen us which, for good or ill, will make a
great change in our lives, what a totally new aspect the common everyday
things about us are apt to wear--the book we were reading, the letter we
had begun, the picture we knew--what a new and tender attraction they
may have for us, or what a grim and terrible irony!

Something of this Paul felt dimly, as he finished dressing, in a dazed,
unconscious manner. The comfortable bedroom, with its delicately-toned
wall-paper and flowery cretonnes, had become altogether hateful in his
eyes now. Instead of feeling grateful (as he surely ought to have been)
for the one night of perfect security and comfort he had passed there,
he only loathed it for the delusive peace it had brought him.

There was a gentle tap at the door, and Dulcie came in, bearing a tray
with his breakfast, and looking like a little Royalist bearing food to a
fugitive Cavalier; though Paul did not quite carry out his share of the
simile.

"There!" she said, almost cheerfully; "I got Mummy to let me take up
your breakfast; and there's an egg for you, and muffins."

Mr. Bultitude sat on a chair and groaned.

"You might say 'thank you,'" said Dulcie, pouting. "That other girl
wouldn't have brought you up much breakfast if she'd been in my place. I