clapped him warmly on the back, and throughout
the class generally there was a show of satisfaction at this result, in
strange contrast with the manner in which the announcement of Oliver's
success had been received.

Still, every one was too eager to hear the third and final announcement
to disturb the proceedings by any demonstration just now.

"Loman, Sixth Form--" and here the Doctor paused, and knitted his brows.

"Loman, Sixth Form, 70 marks!"

This finally brought down the house. Scarcely was the Doctor's back
turned, when a general clamour rose on every hand. He, good man, set it
down to applause of the winners, but every one else knew it meant
triumph over the vanquished.

"Bravo, Wray! old man. Hurrah for the Fifth!" shouted Bullinger.

"Ninety-seven to seventy. Splendid, old fellow!" cried another.

"I was certain you'd win," said another.

"I have not won," said Wraysford, drily, and evidently not liking these
marked congratulations; "I'm second."

"So you are, I quite forgot," said Ricketts: then turning to Oliver, he
added, mockingly, "Allow me to congratulate you, Greenfield, on your
really brilliant success. 112 marks out of 120! You could hardly have
done better if you had seen the paper a day or two before the exam!
Your class, I assure you, are very proud of you."

A general sneer of contempt followed this speech, in the midst of which
Oliver, after darting one angry glance at the speaker, deliberately
quitted the room.

This proceeding greatly irritated the Fifth, who had hoped at least to
make their class-fellow smart while they had the opportunity. They
greeted his departure now with a general chorus of hissing, and revenged
themselves in his absence by making the most of Wraysford.

"Surely the fellow won't be allowed to take the scholarship after this?"
said Ricketts. "The Doctor must see through it all."

"It's very queer if he doesn't," said Bullinger.

"The scholarship belongs to Wray," said Braddy, "and I mean to say it's
a blackguard shame if he doesn't get it!"

"It's downright robbery, that's what it is!" said another; "the fellow
ought to be kicked out of the school!"

"I vote some one tells the Doctor," said Braddy.

"Suppose you go and tell him now, yourself," said Pembury, with a
sarcastic smile; "you could do it capitally. What do you say?"

Braddy coloured. Pembury was always snubbing him.

"I don't want to tell tales," he said. "What I mean is, Wrays