e seen that there were tears in her
eyes when she walked out of the school gates, and still more astonished
to know that it was love for his unworthy self which brought them
there; for little did Fenleigh J. of the Upper Fourth imagine that any
one would come so near to crying on his account.

That evening, just before supper, Valentine felt some one touch him on
the shoulder, and turning round saw that it was his cousin.

"I've seen Queen Mab, as you call her," remarked the latter, "and, I
say--I like her--rather."

"I knew you would. She's an angel--only jollier."

"She made me promise I'd go there for the holidays."

"Oh, that's fine!" cried Valentine. "I thought she would; she's got
such a way of making people do what she wants. I am glad you are
going; you'll enjoy it awfully."

Fenleigh J. regarded the speaker for a moment with rather a curious
glance. In view of the events of the morning he rather expected that
his cousin would not be overpleased to hear that he had been asked to
spend the holidays at Brenlands; and that Valentine should rejoice at
his having accepted the invitation, struck him as being rather odd.

"Look here, Val," he blurted out, "I'm sorry I called you a sneak this
morning. It was my fault, and you're a good sort after all."

"Oh, stop it!" answered the other. "I'll forgive you now that you've
promised to go to Brenlands."

Queen Mab was at home, miles away by this time; yet, as a result of her
flying visit, some of the softening influence of her presence and
kindly usages of her court seemed to linger even amid the rougher and
more turbulent atmosphere of Melchester School.

CHAPTER IV.

THE COURT OF QUEEN MAB.

"They were swans ... the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange
sensation as he watched them."--_The Ugly Duckling_.

During the short period which elapsed between Queen Mab's visit and the
end of the term Jack managed to steer clear of misfortune; but on the
last evening he must needs break out and come to grief again.

He incited the occupants of the Long Dormitory to celebrate the end of
work by a grand bolster fight, during the progress of which conflict a
pillow was thrown through the ventilator above the door. It so
happened that, at that moment, Mr. Copland was walking along the
passage; and a cloud of feathers from the torn case, together with
fragments of ground glass, being suddenly rained down on his
unoffending head, he was naturally led