duties; but Louis had not courage to say _no_.

In proportion, however, as our hero grew in the good graces of his
school-fellows, he fell out of those of his masters, for lessons were
brought only half-learned, and exercises only half-written, or blotted
and scrawled so as to be nearly unintelligible; and after he had been
a fortnight at school, he seemed much more likely to descend to a lower
class than to mount a step in his own. Day after day saw Louis kept in
the school-room during play-hours, to learn lessons which ought to have
been done the night before, or to write out some long imposition as a
punishment for some neglected duty that had given place to the desire
of assisting another.

Louis always seemed in a hurry, and never did any thing well. His mind
was unsettled, and, like every thing else belonging to him at present,
in a state of undesirable confusion.

There was one resource which Louis had which would have set all to
rights, but his weakness of disposition often prevented him from taking
advantage of even the short intervals for prayer allowed by the rules
of the school, and he was often urged at night into telling stories
till he dropped asleep, and hurried down by the morning bell, before
he could summon up courage to brave the remarks of his school-fellows
as to his being so very _religious_, &c., and sometimes did not feel
sorry that there was some cause to prevent these solemn and precious
duties. I need not say he was not happy. He enjoyed nothing thoroughly;
he felt he was not steadily in earnest. Every day he came with a
beating heart to his class, never certain that he could get through
a single lesson.

One morning he was endeavoring to stammer through a few lines of some
Greek play, and at last paused, unable to proceed.

"Well, sir," said his master quietly,--"as usual, I suppose--I shall
give you only a few days' longer trial, and then, if you cannot do
better, you must go down."

"Who is that, Mr. Danby?" said a voice behind Louis, that startled him,
and turning his blanched face round, he saw Dr. Wilkinson standing near.
"Who is that, Mr. Danby?" he repeated, in a deep stern voice.

"Louis Mortimer, sir," replied Mr. Danby. "Either he is totally unfit
for this class, or he is very idle; I can make nothing of him."

Dr. Wilkinson fixed his eyes searchingly on Louis, and replied, in a
tone of much displeasure:

"If you have the same fault to find the next two days, send him int