ball is too much for the young hand, and his bails fly
different ways. Nine runs to make, and two wickets to go down: it is too
much for human nerves.

Before Winter can get in, the omnibus which is to take the Lord's men
to the train pulls up at the side of the close, and Mr. Aislabie and Tom
consult, and give out that the stumps will be drawn after the next over.
And so ends the great match. Winter and Johnson carry out their bats,
and, it being a one day's match, the Lord's men are declared the
winners, they having scored the most in the first innings.

But such a defeat is a victory: so think Tom and all the School eleven,
as they accompany their conquerors to the omnibus, and send them off
with three ringing cheers, after Mr. Aislabie has shaken hands all
round, saying to Tom, "I must compliment you, sir, on your eleven, and I
hope we shall have you for a member if you come up to town."

As Tom and the rest of the eleven were turning back into the close, and
everybody was beginning to cry out for another country-dance, encouraged
by the success of the night before, the young master, who was just
leaving the close, stopped him, and asked him to come up to tea at
half-past eight, adding, "I won't keep you more than half an hour, and
ask Arthur to come up too."

"I'll come up with you directly, if you'll let me," said Tom, "for I
feel rather melancholy, and not quite up to the country-dance and supper
with the rest."

"Do, by all means," said the master; "I'll wait here for you."

So Tom went off to get his boots and things from the tent, to tell
Arthur of the invitation, and to speak to his second in command about
stopping the dancing and shutting up the close as soon as it grew dusk.
Arthur promised to follow as soon as he had had a dance. So Tom handed
his things over to the man in charge of the tent, and walked quietly
away to the gate where the master was waiting, and the two took their
way together up the Hillmorton road.

Of course they found the master's house locked up, and all the servants
away in the close--about this time, no doubt, footing it away on the
grass, with extreme delight to themselves, and in utter oblivion of the
unfortunate bachelor their master, whose one enjoyment in the shape
of meals was his "dish of tea" (as our grandmothers called it) in the
evening; and the phrase was apt in his case, for he always poured his
out into the saucer before drinking. Great was the good man's horror a