m
in blank astonishment and misery. The Doctor's face flushes up mightily
as he glares for one instant around him, and then drops his head over
the prize list.

The only thing there is for him to do he does. He calls on the next
name as composedly as he can, and proceeds with the business of the day.

But the magic has suddenly gone out of prize-day, and no coaxing can
bring it back. The Fifth, and after them the Sixth, advance and receive
their rewards amidst the listless indifference of the audience, and
uncheered by the faintest spark of enthusiasm. No one takes the trouble
to cheer anybody. Even Raleigh, the captain, comes in and out almost
unheeded; and when at last the final name is reached, it is a relief to
every one.

The rest of the day drags heavily--it is no use trying to get up the
steam. The visitors are out of humour, and the noble Earl leaves early.
The musical feast provided by the glee club is a failure altogether. A
few only come to it, and nothing interferes with music like a poor
audience.

As to the charade, it is abandoned at the last moment.

Then a great many mothers and aunts make the discovery that there is an
evening train from Maltby; and having made it, act upon it; and the tide
of emigration sets out forthwith.

Among the first to depart is Wraysford.

As he appears at the school door, trunk in hand, waiting for the school
omnibus (which vehicle, by the way, is having a busy time of it),
Pembury hobbles up, similarly equipped for the road.

"You off by this train?" says the latter to Wraysford.

"Yes; are you?"

"I may as well. I can get home by nine; and my people won't be in a
great rage if I turn up earlier than they expect."

"Well, we may as well get a fly as wait for the wretched omnibus," says
Wraysford. "Come along; there are flies at the corner of Hall Street."

Out walked the two, saying good-bye to one or two on the road. At the
drive gate two boys are standing waiting for the omnibus. Wraysford and
Pembury are upon them before they observe that these are Oliver and his
brother.

What is to be done? There is no escaping them--they must pass; yet both
of them, somehow, would at that moment--they couldn't tell why--have
dropped into the earth.

Oliver looks up as they approach.

Now or never! Wraysford feels he must say something!

"Good-bye, Greenfield," he says. "I hope--"

Oliver quietly takes Stephen's arm and turns on his heel.

Wraysford