leased, "I never think about it. Hang it--there, perhaps he
don't. Well, I suppose he don't."

Arthur saw that he had got his point; he knew his friend well, and was
wise in silence, as in speech. He only said, "I would sooner have the
Doctor's good opinion of me as I really am than any man's in the world."

After another minute, Tom began again: "Look here, young 'un; how on
earth am I to get time to play the matches this half, if I give up
cribs? We're in the middle of that long crabbed chorus in the
'Agamemnon;' I can only just make head or tail of it with the crib. Then
there's Pericles' speech coming on in Thucydides, and 'The Birds' to get
up for the examination, besides the Tacitus." Tom groaned at the thought
of his accumulated labours. "I say, young 'un, there's only five weeks
or so left to holidays; mayn't I go on as usual for this half? I'll tell
the Doctor about it some day, or you may."

Arthur looked out of window; the twilight had come on and all was
silent. He repeated, in a low voice, "In this thing the Lord pardon thy
servant, that when my master goeth into the house of Rimmon to worship
there, and he leaneth on my hand, and I bow myself in the house of
Rimmon: when I bow down myself in the house of Rimmon, the Lord pardon
thy servant in this thing."

Not a word more was said on the subject, and the boys were again
silent--one of those blessed, short silences in which the resolves which
colour a life are so often taken.

Tom was the first to break it. "You've been very ill indeed, haven't
you, Geordie?" said he, with a mixture of awe and curiosity, feeling as
if his friend had been in some strange place or scene, of which he could
form no idea, and full of the memory of his own thoughts during the last
week.

"Yes, very. I'm sure the Doctor thought I was going to die. He gave me
the sacrament last Sunday, and you can't think what he is when one is
ill. He said such brave, and tender, and gentle things to me; I felt
quite light and strong after it, and never had any more fear. My mother
brought our old medical man, who attended me when I was a poor sickly
child; he said my constitution was quite changed, and that I'm fit for
anything now. If it hadn't, I couldn't have stood three days of this
illness. That's all thanks to you, and the games you've made me fond
of."

"More thanks to old Martin," said Tom; "he's been your real friend."

"Nonsense, Tom; he never could have done for me what you ha