had,
the only boy who could have added to it was in no position to do so.
For four weeks after that night Loman lay ill with rheumatic fever, so
ill that more than once those who watched him despaired of his recovery.
But he did recover, and left Saint Dominic's a convalescent, and,
better still, truly penitent, looking away from self and his own poor
efforts to Him, the World's Great Burden Bearer, whose blood "cleanseth
us from all sin."

His schoolfellows saw him no more; did not know, indeed, when he left
them. Only one of them shook hands with him at the door of the old
school as he went. That boy was Oliver Greenfield.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

GOOD-BYE TO SAINT DOMINIC'S.

And now, reader, we are at the end of our story, and there only remain
the usual "last words" before we say good-bye.

Saint Dominic's flourishes still, and only last season beat the County
by five wickets! The captain on that occasion was a fellow called
Stephen Greenfield, who carried his bat for forty-eight in the first
innings. He is a big fellow, is the captain, and has got a moustache.
Though he is the oldest boy at Saint Dominic's, every one talks of him
as "Greenfield junior." He is vastly popular, and fellows say there
never was such a good Sixth at the school since the days of his brother,
Greenfield senior, five years ago. The captain is an object of special
awe among the youngsters of the Fourth Junior, who positively quake in
their shoes whenever his manly form appears in the upper corridor.

These youngsters, by the way, are still the liveliest section of Saint
Dominic's. The names Guinea-pig and Tadpole have died out, and left
behind them only the Buttercups and Daisies, who, however, are as fierce
rivals and as inky scamps as even their predecessors were. There is a
lout of a fellow in the Fourth Senior called Bramble, who is extremely
"down" on these juveniles, always snubbing them, and, along with one
Badger, a friend of his, plotting to get them into trouble. But somehow
they are not much afraid of Bramble, whereat Bramble is particularly
furious, and summons Padger to a "meeting" about once a week in his
study, there to take counsel against these irreverent Buttercups and
Daisies.

About the only other fellow the reader will recollect is Paul, now in
the Sixth, a steady-going sort of fellow, who, by the way, has just won
the Nightingale Scholarship, greatly to the delight of his particular
friend the cap