een if there had been two scholarships, and each could
have had one! I suppose the Fifth is making quite a hero of Oliver. I
know one foolish old woman who would like to be with her boys this
moment to share their triumph."

Oliver laughed bitterly.

"That _would_ be a treat for her!"

Stephen, very red in the face, was too furious for words, so Oliver went
on:

"And if, instead of triumph, they should ever be in trouble or sorrow,
still more would I love to be with them, to share it. But most of all
do I trust and pray they may both make a constant friend of the Saviour,
who wants us all to cast our burdens on Him, and follow the example He
has left us in all things."

There was a silence for some moments after this home message fell on the
brothers' ears. The hearts of both were full--too full for words--but I
think, had the widow-mother far away been able to divine the secret
thoughts of her boys, hope would have mingled with all her pity and all
her solicitude on their account.

But the old trouble, for the present at any rate, was destined to swamp
all other emotions.

Oliver continued reading: "Christmas will not be so very long now in
coming. We must have a real snug, old-fashioned time of it here. Uncle
Henry has promised to come, and your cousins. It would be nice if you
could persuade Mr Wraysford to come here then. I am so anxious to see
him again. Tell him from me I reckon on him to be one of our party if
he can possibly manage it."

"Baa!" exclaimed Stephen. "The beast! I'll let her know what sort of
blackguard the fellow is!"

"Easy all, young 'un," said Oliver.

"I shan't easy all, Noll!" exclaimed the boy; "he _is_ a blackguard, you
know he is, and I hate him."

"I think he's a fool just now," said Oliver, "but--well, he fished you
out of the Thames, Stee; you oughtn't to call him a blackguard."

"I wish he'd left me in the Thames," said Stephen, nearly breaking down.
"I've been miserable enough this term for half a dozen."

Oliver looked hard and long at his young brother. It never seemed to
have occurred to him before how deeply the boy took the trouble of his
elder brother to heart.

Now if Oliver had really been innocent, the natural thing would have
been--wouldn't it?--for him to be quite cut up at this exhibition of
feeling, and fall on his brother's neck and protest once more that he
never did or would or could do such a thing as that he was suspected of.
But instead