help and comfort to some who
needed such assistance with sore need.

One afternoon he was sitting disconsolately on a bench which ran along a
blank wall on one side of the court, doing absolutely nothing. He was
too disgusted with the world and with himself even to take up a novel.
It was three o'clock, and the court was deserted for the playground, as
a match had been announced that afternoon between the sixth-form and the
school, at which all but a very few (who never did anything but loaf
about), were either playing or looking on. To sit with his head bent
down, on a bench in an empty court doing nothing while a game was going
on, was very unlike the Walter Evson of six weeks before; but at that
moment Walter was weary of detention, which was just over; he was
burdened with punishments, he was half sick for want of exercise, and he
was too much out of spirits to do anything. Kenrick and Henderson had
noticed and lamented the change in him. Not exactly knowing the causes
of his ill-success, they were astonished to find so apparently clever a
boy taking his place among the sluggards and dunces. With this,
however, they concerned themselves less than with the settled gloom
which was falling over him, and which rendered him much less available
when they wanted to refresh themselves by talking a little nonsense, or
amusing themselves in any other way. On this day, guessing how it was
likely to be, Kenrick had proposed not to join the game until detention
was over, and then to make Evson come up and play; and Henderson had
kindly offered to stay with him, and add his persuasions to his
friend's.

As they came out ready dressed for football, they caught sight of him.

"Come along, old fellow; you're surely going to fight for the school
against the sixth," said Kenrick.

"Isn't it too late?"

"No; anyone is allowed a quarter of an hour's grace."

"Excuse number one bowled down," said Henderson.

"But I'm not dressed; I shan't have time to put on my Jersey."

"Never mind, you'll only want your cap and belt, and can play in your
shirt-sleeves."

"There goes excuse number two; so cut along," said Henderson, "and get
your belt. We'll wait for you here. Why, the eternal friend's getting
as wasted with misery as the daughter of Babylon," said Henderson, as
Walter ran off.

"Yes," said Kenrick. "I don't like to see that glum look instead of the
merry face he came with. Never mind; the game'll do him good; I n