t with him to
his father's in Leicestershire. Had it not been for the uncertainty
about Edgar he would have enjoyed his holidays greatly. Although he had
always joined to a certain extent in the chaff of his school-fellows at
Easton's care about his dress and little peculiarities of manner, he had
never shared in Skinner's prejudices against him, and always said that
he could do anything well that he chose to turn his hand to, and had
appreciated his readiness to do a kindness to anyone who really needed
it. It had been his turn now, and the friendly companionship of the
elder boy had been of the greatest value to him. Easton had never said
much in the way of sympathy, which indeed would have jarred Rupert's
feelings, but his kindness had said more than words could do; and
Rupert, as he looked back, felt ashamed at the thought that he had often
joined in a laugh about him.

At home the points that had seemed peculiar at school were unnoticeable.
The scrupulous attention to dress that had there been in strong contrast
to the general carelessness of the others in that respect, seemed but
natural in his own house, where there were a good many guests staying.
Rupert and Edgar had always been more particular at home than at school;
but Easton was the same, indeed Rupert thought that he was if anything
less particular now than he had been at River-Smith's.

A week after Christmas Rupert received a letter from his father, written
at Nice, saying that a letter from Edgar had been forwarded on from
home, and giving the brief words in which the lad said that he was well,
and that they might be under no uneasiness respecting him. "This does
not tell us much," Captain Clinton went on, "but we are very pleased,
inasmuch as it seems that Edgar does not mean altogether to drop out of
our sight, but will, we hope, write from time to time to let us know
that at any rate he is well. The letter has the London post-mark, but of
course that shows nothing; it may have been written anywhere and sent to
anyone--perhaps to a waiter at an hotel at which he stopped in London,
and with whom he had arranged to post any letters that he might inclose
to him. The letter has greatly cheered your mother, who, in spite of all
I could say, has hitherto had a dread that Edgar in his distress might
have done something rash. I have never thought so for an instant. I
trust that my two boys are not only too well principled, but too brave
to act a coward's par