a little alleviation to his heavy mood.

"Well, well; at least _do_ hope the best, Eric," said Graham.

"Yes!" urged Wildney; "only think, dear old fellow, what lots of worse
scrapes we've been in before, and how we've always managed to get out of
them somehow."

"No, my boy; not worse scrapes," answered Eric. "Depend upon it this is
the last for me; I shall not have the chance of getting into another at
_Roslyn_, anyhow."

"Poor Eric! what shall I do if you leave?" said Wildney, putting his arm
round Eric's neck. "Besides it's all my fault, hang it, that you got
into this cursed row."

"'The curse is come upon, me, cried
The Lady of Shallott,'

"those words keep ringing in my ears," murmured Eric.

"Well, Eric, if _you_ are sent away, I know I shall get my father to
take me too, and then we'll join each other somewhere. Come, cheer up,
old boy--being sent isn't such a very frightful thing after all."

"No" said Graham; "and besides, the bagging of the pigeons was only a
lark, when one comes to think of it. It wasn't like stealing, you know;
_that_'d be quite a different thing."

Eric winced visibly at this remark, but his companions did not notice
it. "Ah," thought he, "there's _one_ passage of my life which I never
shall be able to reveal to any human soul."

"Come now, Eric," said Wildney, "I've got something to propose. You
shall play cricket to-day; you haven't played for an age, and it's high
time you should. If you don't you'll go mooning about the shore all day,
and that'll never do, for you'll come back glummer than ever."

"No!" said Eric, with a heavy sigh, as the image of Vernon instantly
passed through his mind; "no more cricket for me."

"Nay, but you _must_ play to-day. Come, you shan't say no. You won't say
no to me, will you, dear old fellow?" And Wildney looked up to him with
that pleasant smile, and the merry light in his dark eyes, which had
always been so charming to Eric's fancy.

"There's no refusing you," said Eric with the ghost of a laugh, as he
boxed Wildney's ears. "O you dear little rogue, Charlie, I wish I
were you."

"Pooh! pooh! now you shan't get sentimental again. As if you wern't
fifty times better than me every way. I'm sure I don't know how I shall
ever love you enough, Eric," he added more seriously, "for all your
kindness to me."

"I'm so glad you're going to play, though," said Graham; "and so will
everybody be; and I'm certain it'll be good for you. T