'Certainly, certainly, it is something, as you say,' answered Mr.

Morrison; but in truth he felt overwhelmed just now.

As Fred was leaving, a servant from Dr. Mason's arrived with a note, asking that Mr. Morrison would bring his son, and be at the school by nine o'clock.

'Mason has found out all about it, I expect,' he said, as he read the note. He gave orders for his carriage to be ready by half-past eight the following day, for he had a great deal to do before he started for London in the evening.

He went to see Leonard in his own room before he went to bed, and then told him something of his uncle's life, and why it was that he wished to befriend Horace Howard.

His father's talk made a deep impression on the boy's mind. 'Mamma told me something of this once but she did not say the "somebody" was my uncle.'

'My boy, she loved this brother as Florrie loves you, and how could she tell you all the miserable tale?'

'Oh, papa, I am so sorry! What can I do to make you believe that I do mean to try and do right always for the future? I wish I could do something for that poor Horace. His hands are awfully bad, and he won't be able to use them for ever so long. There's n.o.body to take care of him at home either. Don't you think he might come here, papa?'

Dr. Morrison looked at Leonard, and breathed a sigh of relief. 'My boy, could I trust you to be good to him if I fetched him here to-morrow?'

'Yes, yes, papa; indeed I will try to make it up to him, if you will let him come. I am so sorry. I did not know it was going to be so bad, until I heard Mr. Skeats say he wondered they were not dead. That was why I wanted to see Howard's brother. I knew he was the worst, and I wanted them to know that I did not mean really to hurt him.'

'I can quite believe and sincerely hope that this will be a lesson you will never forget through your whole life. But if I forgive you it is more than you can expect Dr. Mason to do. I almost wonder he has not put it into the hands of the police, and had you all arrested. The punishment will be severe, I have no doubt; it ought to be, to make an impression upon the school; and remember, whatever it may be, I shall expect you to bear it patiently and bravely. I forgive you, but I shall not seek to lessen the punishment your schoolmaster may inflict.

Now go to sleep as soon as you can, and I will take you to school in the carriage with me in the morning.'

Dr. Morrison was compelled to pay a visit to a patient on his way to the school the next day, so that when they arrived they found all the school a.s.sembled in the hall. Prayers were just over, and when Leonard entered with his father, he was directed to take his place beside Taylor and Curtis, who were standing in front of the platform, where Dr. Mason and the other masters were sitting. His father was asked to take a seat there beside two other gentlemen, whom he afterwards heard were Mr. Curtis and Mr. Taylor, who had come to hear what their sons were charged with.

'It might have been manslaughter,' said Dr. Mason severely, when one of the gentlemen asked this question rather angrily.

'Last night, before we separated, I asked if anyone wanted to make a statement about this matter,' said the master, addressing the school.

'No one answered then; now it is too late, and I can tell you myself all that happened. When the chemistry cla.s.s left the laboratory yesterday morning, Mr. Skeats left three boys to finish what they were doing, believing that they were the only lads there. Just after he had gone they heard the stink-chamber door opened, and Taylor put something down on Howard's bench, which is close to that door. They took no notice of this at first, until the peculiar odour arrested their attention. Then one of them went round to see what it was, but coming in closer contact with the fumes was overcome by them, and fell down unconscious. Soon a second fell at his bench, and the third fell just as Howard opened the laboratory door and called to them. None were able to answer; but he pulled two out on to the landing, and then went back for the third, but fell unconscious himself, close to his own bench, and near the lad he was trying to save. Fortunately, his cry for help was heard, and both lives were saved, I am thankful to say, although Howard has been burned a great deal with the acid of the poison.'

There was a dead silence throughout the school while the master was speaking. After a pause he said, 'I do not suppose that either Taylor, Curtis, or Morrison knew what their act would be likely to cause. I am sure they were ignorant of the danger they caused to three or four of their schoolfellows. But I do know that for some time past these boys have been persecuting one of their companions; and this sort of thing shall never be allowed at this school. Therefore, to save this school from future disgrace and trouble, I am compelled to expel from the school those who have been the ringleaders in this persecution.

Taylor! Curtis! your names will be removed from the school roll, and never again will you be admitted as scholars of Torrington's school.

Morrison has been greatly to blame in the part he has taken in this business; but taking into consideration that he made a full confession to his father last night of all he had done, added to the fact that he is a younger and weaker boy than the others, I shall suspend him from attending this school for six months; and if at the end of that time he can bring a certificate of good conduct from any other school, he may possibly be reinstated at Torrington's. The honour of the school demands that these punishments should be strictly adhered to.' The master sat down, and before a boy could leave his place Dr. Morrison sprang to his feet.

'Dr. Mason, I am an old Torrington boy,' he said; 'and I thank you with all my heart for defending the honour of the dear old school. My son is one of the culprits, and I thank you in his name for giving him another chance to retrieve his character. I shall send him for the six months to one of the board schools in the town, where I hope and trust he may earn the right to come among you once more, and bring no further disgrace upon Torrington's school.'

The other two gentlemen did not say a word. They were exceedingly angry with the culprits, but could not complain that the master had been unduly severe with them. Before they left, Dr. Mason said that he must charge them with the cost of a new suit of clothes for Horace.

'Those he was wearing yesterday are burned into holes, so that the poor lad has nothing to wear when he is able to get up,' said Dr.

Mason.

'I will see to that,' said Dr. Morrison.

'I understand you are going to charge yourself with the care of the lad until he is well,' said the master. 'I like justice all round, and it is only fair these gentlemen should buy the boy a new suit. Will you leave me to order it?' he said, addressing the two.

'Yes, yes, of course, and we will pay the bill,' both answered in a breath.

'Now, Morrison, you can go and tell the lad that he will soon have some new clothes, for I understand that is the chief trouble with him this morning--that he has spoiled his best jacket, and burned holes in his trousers. Mrs. Mason will give you something to take him home in, and I think it will do both lads good to know more of each other. The wisest thing you could do is what you have decided upon for Leonard, and I hope I shall see him back at Torrington's at the end of six months.'

Mr. Morrison found Fred was with his brother, but he readily agreed to his being taken home by the doctor. Horace himself did not know what to make of it. Fred had just told him what he had heard from Dr.

Morrison about his father, and now the doctor a.s.sured him that Leonard was very anxious to make up to him for all the unkindness he had been guilty of in the past.

'For our father's sake you ought to give him this chance,' said Fred, for he knew he could not give his brother the care he needed.

'Thank you, doctor; I will go with you,' said Horace.

Just as he was being wrapped up Mr. Warren came in to see his patient, and was glad to learn that he was going home with Dr. Morrison.

'You will let Warren come and see me, won't you?' said Horace.

'Yes, yes, send him by all means; and I shall be glad if you can look in upon him yourself to-morrow, for I am obliged to go to London this evening, so that he must be left to the tender mercies of Len and the servants for a day or two.'

Horace was carried to the carriage where Leonard was seated, shedding a few quiet tears over the folly that had gained for him this suspension for the honour of the school. Still, he was thankful that he was allowed a chance of return, and resolved to do all he could--even in a board school--to earn the right to go back at the end of six months. He was glad enough to have Horace seated beside him, and the first words he said were,

'I hope you will forgive me for being such a fool. We must be friends, you know, and I hope to come back to Torrington's with you by-and by.'

'Yes, yes, we will be good friends if you like,' said Horace, with the tears shining in his eyes. 'Only I don't know what my mother will say when she comes home.'

'Oh, that will be all right,' answered Leonard. 'Your mother has gone to London with my mother. I dare say we shall know all about it presently. But father is too busy now, for he is going to London again this evening, and so I shall have to take care of you until he comes back. We'll ask Warren to come and see us as well, because I know you like Warren.'

This last proposal cost Leonard the most, for he wanted Horace to like him now. But it was a proof to Mr. Morrison that his son had learned to conquer himself; and he had more hope for him now than he had since he first heard of this school scandal.

The doctor had taken care to say as little as possible to the two boys about the fortune Mr. Howard had made while he was away, and it had made so little impression upon Horace, that when Mr. Morrison came back from London the next day, and told him that his mother wanted him to go to the sea-side as soon as he was able to go, Horace looked at him in mute wonder.

Could his mother afford to send him to the sea-side? he wondered, and he resolved to ask Fred what he thought about it when he came.

His brother came to sit with him for an hour every evening, and as soon as they were left to themselves that night Horace said, 'Have you heard that mother wants us to go to the sea-side--Leonard, and you and I? What does it mean, Fred? Has mother got money enough now to spend it like that?'

'I suppose she has,' said Fred, with something like a sigh; 'but I am not sure that it is going to make us any happier, Horry,' he added.

'Well, I suppose that will depend upon what we do with it, won't it?'

said Horace simply.

'Well, then I don't know that I shall let them spend any of it on me,'

said Fred, in an angry tone.

'Then you won't let mother be happy, though she may have more money, and not have to work for it now.'

'Now, Horace, you know it is on mother's account that I feel as I do.

It was unkind and cruel of father to go away and leave her as he did for years and years, though he was making a fortune for us. I tell you that money has been bought too dearly, and for mother's sake I don't feel as though I could touch a penny of it.'

'Oh, Fred! think how unhappy she will be if you say that to her.'

'I have said it,' replied Fred bitterly. 'I wrote and told her that I hoped she would leave me to be a carpenter, and live on in the little cottage where she had worked so hard.'

'Oh, how could you--what did she say?' cried Horace, with the tears shining in his eyes.

Fred covered his face for a moment. 'She begged me to forgive my father for her sake, as though it was not for her sake I feel as I do.'

'Yes, yes, I know,' said Horace. 'But you will have to do as she says, or else we shall all be so unhappy. Oh, Fred, for mother's sake, for my sake, forgive father! for why should I lose my brother because my father has come home? I cannot help myself. I must let him help me, and if he did stay and work for this money just to prove that he was sorry for what he had done so long ago, I think we ought to forgive him, as mother has. He is ill, too, through the hardships he had to endure.'