e wanted it in writing. She requested him to
deliver up her previous letters. Thereupon he charged me with a lengthy
epistle, which plunged us into boiling water. Mr. Boddy sat in the
schoolroom while Heriot's pen was at work, on the wet Sunday afternoon.
His keen little eyes were busy in his flat bird's head all the time
Heriot continued writing. He saw no more than that Heriot gave me a book;
but as I was marching away to Julia he called to know where I was going.

'To Miss Rippenger,' I replied.

'What have you there?'

'A book, sir.'

'Show me the book.'

I stood fast.

'It 's a book I have lent him, sir,' said Heriot, rising. 'I shall see if
it's a fit book for a young boy,' said Boddy; and before Heriot could
interpose, he had knocked the book on the floor, and out fell the letter.
Both sprang down to seize it: their heads encountered, but Heriot had the
quicker hand; he caught the letter, and cried 'Off!' to me, as on
another occasion. This time, however, he was not between me and the
usher. I was seized by the collar, and shakes roughly.

'You will now understand that you are on a footing with the rest of the
boys, you Roy,' said Boddy. 'Little scoundrelly spoilt urchins, upsetting
the discipline of the school, won't do here. Heriot, here is your book. I
regret,' he added, sneering, 'that a leaf is torn.'

'I regret, sir, that the poor boy was so savagely handled,' said Heriot.

He was warned to avoid insolence.

'Oh, as much Virgil as you like,' Heriot retorted; 'I know him by heart.'

It was past the hour of my customary visit to Julia, and she came to
discover the reason of my delay. Boddy stood up to explain. Heriot went
forward, saying, 'I think I'm the one who ought to speak, Miss Rippenger.
The fact is, I hear from little Roy that you are fond of tales of Indian
adventure, and I gave him a book for you to read, if you like it. Mr.
Boddy objected, and treated the youngster rather rigorously. It must have
been quite a misunderstanding on his part. Here is the book it's
extremely amusing.'

Julia blushed very red. She accepted the book with a soft murmur, and the
sallow usher had not a word.

'Stay,' said Heriot. 'I took the liberty to write some notes. My father
is an Indian officer, you know, and some of the terms in the book are
difficult without notes. Richie, hand that paper. Here they are, Miss
Rippenger, if you'll be so kind as to place them in the book.'

I was hoping with all my mig