"I'll just ask Moore why he was
afraid of the wet fields. Perhaps he's delicate, or perhaps he'd
promised not to go."

"Grandfather's hero wouldn't have called him a milksop," said Maud
thoughtfully.

"No," answered Bob, "and I wish I hadn't; but then, you know, I hadn't
heard about Grandfather's hero."

CHAPTER NINE.

BERNARD'S EXPERIMENT, BY ANON.

When the Headmaster sent for Gray Minor, on receipt of a telegram from
his home, the boys were in great consternation, because they all
regarded him as a "ripping good fellow."

"I wonder what's up," said one, and this speech expressed the feeling of
every boy. Then Gray Minor appeared, white, but determined, and told
them that, his widowed Mother being suddenly ruined, he would have to
leave the school at once.

"I say, Gray, you're such a chap for experiment, perhaps you'll see your
way out of this fix; but, all the same, it's jolly hard lines on you,"
said his greatest chum, wringing Gray's hand. The boys expressed their
grief in different ways, but each was equally sincere, and Gray Minor
departed, universally regretted.

Mrs Gray sat by the fire of the little cottage parlour, a black-edged
letter lying idly between her fingers. Very pale, she had the
appearance of one who had passed many sleepless nights. Outside, the
November sky was overcast, the rain was coming down in torrents, and
sad-looking people picked their way down the muddy lane under streaming
umbrellas to the railway-station.

Suddenly, a quick, firm footstep sounded on the little garden path, and
a boy's round face smiled in at the diamond-paned window like a ray of
bright sunshine. Mrs Gray almost ran to the door. "Bernard, you must
be drenched!" she cried.

"No, Mother, not a bit of it," he laughed, taking off his streaming
mackintosh.

"It is such a dreadful day," she said, but her face had brightened
astonishingly at the sight of her brave boy.

"Yes, but it has put a scheme--a grand scheme in my head! Wait until I
get my wet togs off and I'll tell you."

"An _experiment_?--already! oh, Bernard!" Mrs Gray laughed with actual
joy: her faith in her only son was so unquestioning.

As Bernard came downstairs, the faithful old servant was carrying in a
substantial tea for her young master. "Hullo, Dolly," he cried; "I
haven't stayed up the remainder of the term, you see."

"Ah, Mr Bernard, it's well you take it so lightly--but it's black ruin
this time and no mistake.