d Mr Hashford at this moment, "don't talk."

This was quite a remarkable utterance for the meek and mild Mr Hashford
to make in the Henniker's absence, and we all started and looked up in a
concerned way, as if he must be unwell.

But no, he seemed all right, and having said what he had to say, went on
with his work.

Hawkesbury took no notice of the interruption, and went on. "And, on
the whole, I think it would be kinder not to say anything about it, as
he has kept it a secret himself. You see--"

"Hawkesbury," again said Mr Hashford, "you must not talk."

Hawkesbury smiled in a pitiful sort of way at Mr Hashford, and again
turned towards me to resume the conversation. "You see--" began he.

"Hawkesbury," again said Mr Hashford, "this is the third time I have
told you not to talk."

"Who was talking?" cried the Henniker, entering at that moment.

"Hawkesbury, I'm sorry to say, Miss Henniker."

"Hawkesbury--a bad mark for--"

"Oh!" said I, starting up, "I was talking--"

"A bad mark to you, Batchelor, for interrupting me, and another for
talking. Hawkesbury, a bad mark for talking in class."

We were all astonished. We had hitherto looked upon Hawkesbury as a
privileged person who might do as he liked, and upon Mr Hashford as a
person who had not a soul of his own. Here was the phenomenon not only
of our schoolfellow getting publicly censured, but of Mr Hashford
backing up Miss Henniker, and Miss Henniker backing up Mr Hashford.

Flanagan afterwards confided to me his theory of this unwonted event.
"I expect," said he, "Hashford's just got his screw raised, and wants to
show off a bit before the Hen, and she wants to encourage him to be
rather more down on us, you know. She's got the toothache, too, I know,
and that accounts for her not being particular who she drops on, though
I am surprised she pitched on Hawkesbury. How pleased your chum Smith
will be!"

But my friend Smith, when I had a chance of speaking to him, seemed
indifferent about the whole affair, being taken up with troubles of his
own. A letter had come for him that day, he told me, in tones of fierce
anger. It had been opened and read as usual, before being handed to
him. He did not complain of that; that was an indignity we had to
submit to every time we received a letter. But what he did complain of,
and what had roused his temper, was that the last half-sheet of the
letter had been deliberately torn off and not given to him