him, but it can't be helped."

It was the first kind word he had had since the morning, and after his
troubles kindness melted him. He felt half inclined to cry, and for a
few moments could say nothing in reply to Russell's soothing words. But
the boy's friendliness went far to comfort him, and at last, shaking
hands with him, he said--

"Do let me speak to you sometimes, while I am a new boy, Russell."

"O yes," said Russell, laughing, "as much as ever you like. And as
Barker hates me pretty much as he seems inclined to hate you, we are in
the same box. Good bye."

So Eric left the field, and wandered home, like Calchas in the Iliad,
"Sorrowful by the side of the sounding sea." Already the purple mantle
had fallen from his ideal of schoolboy life. He got home later than they
expected, and found his parents waiting for him. It was rather
disappointing to them to see his face so melancholy, when they expected
him to be full of animation and pleasure. Mrs. Williams drew her own
conclusions from the red mark on his cheek, as well as the traces of
tears welling to his eyes; but, like a wise mother, she asked nothing,
and left the boy to tell his own story,--which, in time he did, omitting
all the painful part, speaking enthusiastically of Russell, and only
admitting that he had been a little teased.



CHAPTER III