Tim [a story of school life]

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TIM

T I M

' Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women '

ILontion

MACMILLAN AND CO.

AND NEW YORK
I89I

Ai^ rights reserved

PR ef ^9

S2i Is

First Edition October xSgi
Reprinted November 1891

To her for whose entertainment it was originally written^
this story belongs as of right On the shrine of her
deathless memory I lay my little book.

CHAPTER I

And he wandered away and away
With Nature the dear old nurse,

Who sang to him, night and day.
The rhymes of the universe.

Longfellow's Fiftieth Birthday ofAgassiz.

Tim's real name was not Tim : so much is
certain. What it was, I have never inquired.
The nickname had been bestowed on him
so early in life that the memory of such men
and women as knew him ran not to the
contrary. Tim was Tim by immemorial
custom ; even his father, who had little rever-
ence for established usages, never thought of
altering this one, and, as one name is as good
as another, we too will call him by the only
one by which he was ever known.

S> B

2 TIM CHAP.

Tim was a slightly -made, lean, brown
child, but without the pretty colour brown
children usually have. He had such regular
little features and such a pale little face that
he might almost have been called faded, had
he ever looked otherwise. Mrs. Quitchett
had pronounced him to be * the thinnest and
lightest baby ever she see,' when he was
transferred to her care from that of the
monthly nurse, in which opinion she was sup-
ported by that lady, who might be said to
be an authority on such matters. Possibly
she too might throw some light on the
question of how he came by that pre-
baptismal nickname of his, for she alone
had had much to do with him previous to
the day when he had been carried, a poor
little skinny Christian-elect, to be received
into the pale of the Church.

That event was seven years into the past
at the time I write of, and Tim, despite his
puny appearance, having struggled through the
usual maladies of childhood, and cut several

I TIM 3

of his second teeth, was living in an old house
in one of the western counties of England.

The Stoke Ashton manor-house, of which
the most modern rooms dated from the days
of Elizabeth, had been the home of the
Darley family through ages of unbroken
descent, until a part of it having been
destroyed by fire in the year of our Lord
1780, the then existing Darley had built the
big house up in the park, and called it
Darley Court. Thenceforward for the next
seventy years or so, what was left of the
manor-house became the abode of widowed
mothers, spinster sisters, or married sons,
until the day when, no such relative laying
claim to it at the moment, old Squire
Darley let it to Tim's parents.

The first seven years of the child's life in
the queer old house could not well have
been less eventful. He was happy enough
in the company of Mrs. Quitchett and his
old setter Bess, partly perhaps from never
having known any other.

4 TIM CHAP.

* His father,' nurse told him, *was in
India/

* Where was that ? ' asked Tim.

* Oh ! a long way ofif/

' Farther than Granthurst ? '

* Yes, much farther/

The schoolmaster, who came and gave
him a lesson now and then, showed him
India on the map, but he was not much the
wiser. His mother, Mrs. Quitchett never
mentioned, and as she never introduced the
subject, he asked no questions, having the
habit of deferring to her in all matters, and
her rule, though absolute, was not a hard one.
There was only one point on which he ever
questioned her authority : in his determina-
tion on no account to wear a hat, he was
adamant. We all have our idiosyncrasies,
and this was Tim's. On Sundays alone
could he be prevailed upon to allow a small
round covering of mixed straw to be stuck
on the extreme back of his head, when Mrs.
Quitchett took him to church in his best

I

I TIM 5

clothes. At first, when he was very little,
his picture-book used to be taken with him ;
but when he was considered to have reached
an age at which the rector s discourses would
be of service to him, this indulgence was
withdrawn, and he found thenceforward his
principal entertainment in the painted window
just opposite his seat. It had been put up
in memory of some dead child, and the
subject had a great fascination for Tim, who
used to call it *his* window. It represented a
long stretch of quiet upland, arched by a
twilight sky paling into a streak of soft light
where it disappeared on the distant horizon ;
walking across the green came the tender
gracious figure of the good shepherd bearing
a lamb in his loving arms. Tim knew just
such a bit of down where the lambs played,
and could almost fancy sometimes that he
saw the figure coming towards him from out
of the sunset. The whole picture was sub-
dued in colouring, and set for sharp contrast
in a frame of tall lilies and jubilant golden-

6 TIM CHAP.

haired angels. Not less bright was the head
of the Squire's little grandson, who some-
times knelt in the big Court pew hard by,
where, almost hidden from the rest of the
church, old Mr. Darley persisted in attending
worship, to the scandal of his daughter Miss
Kate, who inclined to High Church, and to
whom tall family pews which turned their
backs on the altar were an abomination.

Thus once a week did Tim conform to
laws social and religious, but the other six
days saw him scudding bareheaded over the
fields, searching for flowers along the hedge-
rows, or, tired at last with his wanderings,
sitting by the side of some little brook
nursing his knees, and singing low to himself
little quaint snatches of song culled here and
there from old books, and set to the nursery
tunes Mrs. Quitchett hummed to him, or to
others picked up. Heaven knows where, —
perhaps from the birds.

No place came amiss to Tim as a resting-
place except a chair; he would sit on the

I TIM 7

soft green grass, in a tree, on a stile, a table, a
window-sill, — anywhere but on those articles
of furniture which custom has set aside for
the purpose. In the winter he and Bess
curled themselves up in the shaggy bearskin
rug before the fire and fell asleep ; in the
summer he sat in the patches of sun on the
carpet, and told Bess stories from the Arabian
Nights, of which he had discovered a copy
with pictures in the old library. The fairy
Pari-banou unlocked the wonders of her
palace for that patient hound ; Prince Firouz
Shah flew by on the enchanted horse,
Morgiana whirled in her dance, and Gulnar^
rose from the sea to be the bride of the
Persian king ; only the story of the lady who
whipped the little dogs Tim never related,
out of consideration for his companion's
feelings.

Such was Tim's life : reading to a dog,
singing to the streams, having fellowship
with birds and flowers, in a strange world of
his own creation, hatless, lean, brown, and

8 TIM CHAP.

happy. The hours slipped softly by him with-
out his noting their passing. He knew when
it was Sunday, was glad when it was fine,
not sorry when it rained, full of strange
dreams and fancies, companionless yet not
alone, for nature was with him. And so Tim
grew to be eight years old.

One day the postman brought Mrs.
Quitchett a letter which had come all the
way from India, — and a long way it was in
those days when no Suez Canal existed to
shorten the journey. The letter had no
beginning, because Tim*s father, who had
written it, was a man who never quite knew
how to begin his letters to an old nurse. To
say * Dear Mrs. Quitchett' seemed to imply
undue familiarity. * Madam ' was altogether
out of the question. ' Mrs. Quitchett' sounded
harsh and dictatorial, which he had no wish
to be, and to write a long letter in the third
person would have been a needless exertion.
So the letter came to the point at once,
without preliminary compliment.

I TIM 9

*You will perhaps be surprised to hear/
it said, in neat upstrokes and downstrokes
and beautifully straight lines, *that I intend
coming home for good. My doctor strongly
advises my leaving India, and I am the more
inclined to consent that I am very desirous of
seeing my son, to whom I am of opinion that
the personal care of a father may be of more
service during such time as I am spared to
him, than a somewhat larger fortune at my
death/

Nurse Quitchett glanced over her ven-
erable spectacles at Tim, who was lying
asleep on the window-seat, with his arm
round the neck of the faithful Bess, but
returned without making any remark to her
reading.

* You will have the goodness to acquaint
my son with my change of plans. I shall
probably reach home by about October, and
shall hope to find my boy ready to give me a
welcome. I am afraid his education must
have been rather neglected, but he is young

lO TIM CHAP.

yet, and that deficiency may easily be supplied ;
while I am sure that in your hands his health
at least must have been well looked after.
I have always disapproved of the selfishness
of some Indian parents who, keeping their
children with them in an unhealthy climate
for their own gratification, injure their health
perhaps for life, I hope to be repaid for my
six years* separation from my only child by
finding a true, sturdy little pink-and-white
Briton waiting to greet me on my return.
With my best thanks for your care of the boy
and the regular reports you have sent me of
him, believe me, truly yours,

* William Ebbesley.'

Mrs. Quitchett put down the letter, took
off her glasses, which were somehow quite wet,
and looked again, not without apprehension,
at the sleeping boy. In vain she tried to make
any of the epithets used in the letter fit the
child before her : he was as unlike the picture
of the true, sturdy little pink-and-white Briton,

I TIM II

on which his father s fancy dweh so fondly, as
one boy could be unlike another,

William Ebbesley, observing that Anglo-
Indian babies were as a rule small and sallow,
had concluded, with defective logic, that his
child, not being brought up in India, would
be neither the one nor the other. He had
thought of this imaginary child of his, until,
Prometheus -like, he had given life to the
figure he had himself created ; and had any
one cared to inquire what the boy was like,
would unhesitatingly have described him.
Nowadays his illusions would be rudely dis-
pelled by photography ; but when Tim was a
child, the art was also in its infancy, and it
had not become the fashion to have babies
photographed once a year. On one occasion,
when Tim was three years old, Mrs. Quitchett
had set up his hair in a sort of crest and
carried him to a neighbouring town to be
photographed, but the child could not be got
to sit still, and ended by a flood of tears, so
that the little card which finally went to Mr.

12 TIM CHAP.

Ebbesley was hardly satisfactory as a likeness.
Mrs. Quitchett herself confessed as much,
and the father was quite indignant at this libel
on his child. It never even occurred to him
that the photograph, bad as it was, had at
least been taken from the real boy, and as
such might be nearer the truth than the
portrait his fancy had painted.

Writing not being a strong point of Mrs.
Quitchett 's, her epistolary style was remark-
able chiefly for its terseness, and she would
as soon have thought of writing a novel at
once as of launching into any description of
Tim's appearance, beyond such casual ex-
pressions of admiration as nurses use of their
bantlings, and which are not meant to be
taken literally.

After a while Tim stirred uneasily, and
Bess, roused into semi -consciousness by his
change of position, put up her cold nose and
touched his cheek. The boy woke with a start
and sat up, to find the eyes of his old nurse
fixed on him with an expression he had never

I TIM 13

seen in them before ; it was gone as soon as
she saw that he was awake, but not before he
had remarked it, and springing quickly to her
he asked, * Why do you look at me like that ?
What have you got there ? *

The second question happily furnishing
nurse with an excuse for evading the first,
which she would have been puzzled how to
answer, * It's a letter from your papa,* she
said, *and Tve got a surprise for you; what
do you think is going to happen ? '

* He's coming home,* replied Tim quietly,
as if he had known it all along.

* Law bless the boy!' called out Mrs.
Quitchett. * Whoever could have told you ?
But there! nobody could, for I've just this
minute finished reading the letter, and it's
not been out of my hand.'

Tim nodded sagaciously : * I dreamed it,'
he said, as he walked off into the garden,
leaving his nurse in that condition which she
would herself have described as a capability
of being knocked down with a feather.

14 TIM CHAP.

* Well, of all the out-of-the-way odd children
ever I see !' she ejaculated under her breath ;
and then the father's picture of the little
Briton recurred to her so pathetically comic
in its contrast to facts, that she could not help
smiling, though the tears followed close after,
as she thought, * He*ll come between me and
my boy ; well, I ought to ha' known how it
would be.'

But though the old nurse might shed a
few tears in private, and to Tim the words
* My father is coming ' conveyed, it is true,
some misty sense of approaching change, the
letter and its contents left no perceptible
mark on the inhabitants of the manor-house.
Mrs. Quitchett could not spare much time
to speculation, and her charge had not con-
tracted the habit of looking ahead ; what
difference his father's home-coming would
make in his life he knew not, and scarcely
cared to imagine.

The summer passed away in no respect
unlike those other five or six he could

I TIM 15

remember. The roses bloomed and paled
and fell ; the birds built their nests, laid their
eggs, hatched and reared their young, all in
due order ; the cornfields passed through all
their accustomed phases ; July succeeded to
June, August to July, September to August,
and * Nature the dear old nurse * led this
youngest of her nurslings through the
peaceful hot months, unsuspicious of those
that were to follow.

The first touch of autumn saddened our
Tim ; the waving fields of golden grain, with
their wind-rippled orange shadows, had lent
a thrill of happiness to a little soul alive to all
such influences, and now that the meek, stately
ears had bowed their heads to the sickle, he
missed their presence, and sorrowed over the
stubble.

This month, too, the guns were popping
all over the country-side, and Tim hated guns
for two reasons — first, because they startled
the quiet of his usual rambles, giving a sense
of insecurity even to the quietest fields ; and

i6 TIM CHAP. I

secondly, because each report that made the
child jump and tremble, meant the death or
wounding of a bird ; and that was keen grief
to him.

CHAPTER II

. • . and the sweet smell of the fields
Past, and the sunshine came along with him.

Tennyson's Pelleas and Etiarre.

One day a party of gentlemen set out from
Darley Court to shoot partridges. Old Squire
Darley was an open-handed man, and loved
his kind well enough to be glad to fill his
house with them two or three times a year ;
but better than all else in the world did
he love his grandson Carol, and Carol was
worth loving. A brighter, truer, more boyish
boy than Carol Darley did not exist in all
England ; he was straight as a little dart,
had never had a day's illness in his life, and
was blessed, in addition to an excellent
temper and tearing spirits, with a frame

c

1 8 TIM CHAP.

slight as yet, but well knit and vigorous, a
broad frank face, a joyous mouth, a bright
colour, a shock of golden curls, and two such
honest kindly blue eyes, that you might draw
gladness from them like water from a well.
And the old man would have loved him had
he come to him with none of these claims for
affection, for was he not the point in which
all his hopes and cares centred, the sole
survivor of his house, the child of his dead
son ? The child had come to the two old
people like a message straight from heaven,
in their heaviest grief. The first reawaken-
ing to life after their crushing loss was the
discovery that the little lips had been taught
to call the old place *home.'

Carol was thirteen on this particular
morning, and to-day, in fulfilment of a
promise of long standing, his grandfather
had promoted him from trotting about after
the shooters, as he had hitherto done, to
carrying a gun of his own. Earth seemed
to have nothing more to offer as he strutted

II TIM 19

along in the clear September sunshine,
bravely brushing last night's raindrops from
the heavy turnip-tops with his sturdy legs;
already he foresaw himself the best shot in
the county, as his father had been before him.
To be sure, he had not shot anything as yet,
and the little gun kicked rather and hurt his
shoulder, but such trifles as these were power-
less to dash his joy ; only he did hope he should
shoot something before he had to go home.

'That's a fine boy of yours, Darley,' said
one of the gentlemen ; * he steps out well.
Shall you send him into the army ? '

The Squire swelled with honest pride as
his eye fell on the boy. *Well, I hardly
know yet,' he answered; 'it seems a good
soldier wasted, and yet I have always set my
heart on his making a figure in the county —
going into Parliament, and all that ; it wouldn't
be the first time a member had come from
Darley. I used to hope his father — but
there, we never know what is best for us,'
added the old man hastily. Mr. Darley felt

20 TIM CHAP.

quite sorry that he could not bestow Carol
on all the careers open to him ; he was so
eminently qualified to adorn whichever might
finally be selected for honour, that it was
difficult to make a wise choice. The army
was a gentlemanly calling, but Mrs. Darley
would not hear of that for a moment.
'Suppose there should be a war/ she said.
Sometimes the Squire had leanings to-
wards the Woolsack, or if Miss Kate sug-
gested the Church, he had visions of Carol
in lawn sleeves crowning sovereigns and
christening royal infants ; but on the whole,
though with a sense that he was defrauding
all the professions, he felt that the important
post of Squire of Darley was the one for
which his treasure was pre-eminently fitted ;
and there at least I think he was right.
The object of all this anxious thought was
not as yet gone to Eton, which was to be
the next step on his road to greatness, where
he would wear a round jacket, and perhaps
be whipped ; but if the road we look along

II TIM 21

be straight, the eye does not accurately
measure the distance.

The party of shooters were walking along
a turnip -field bordered on one side by a
hazel coppice, when the dogs put up a .
covey of six birds a little in front of them.
Two got away, two fell, and the remaining
two flew for the coppice, on the side on
which Carol was walking.

*Now then, sir,' cried his grandfather,
* the birds are waiting for you ; winged, by
Jove ! no, missed. You little goose ! Bless
my soul, what was that ? '

* That ' was a sort of cry which proceeded
from the coppice into which most of Carols
charge had gone, and quite unlike any note
of partridge or other bird. The boy's bright
colour faded from his cheeks, and he put
down his gun as though by impulse, but could
not move ; he stood wide-eyed, staring at the
tangle of slender hazel rods from which the
sound had come. Some of the party, how-
ever, knowing that these accidents were not

22 TIM CHAP.

of a fatal kind, parted the branches and dis-
closed to view a small figure habited in an
old holland blouse, stretched among the sticks
and dry leaves which strewed the ground.
The child lay quite still, and on nearer
approach proved to have fainted. Carol
now came near, steadying himself by his
grandfather's kind hand.

* Is he dead } * he asked in a whisper, all
the horror of having killed his fellow-boy
surging over his bright young heart like a
drowning wave.

* Dead ! no, no, no,' answered the Colonel
good-naturedly (he who had asked whether
Carol was to be put into the army) ; * he's
been grazed, nothing more. It's the fright
that made the poor child faint ; any doctor
will pick out the shot in five minutes, and
to-morrow he'll be trotting about again.'

Carol said nothing, but big tears of thank-
fulness swelled up in his bonnie blue eyes,
and the Squire felt the boy's grasp tighten in
his. He had to turn away himself (tears are

!

II TIM 23

SO infectious), and to adopt a jovially bustling
manner, as he asked the keeper if he knew
whose child this was.

* If you please, sir,' said the man, ' it's the
little gentleman as lives in the old manor-
house along of the old lady.'

* Dear, dear — dear, dear ! take him home,
some one ; I will send down this evening and
inquire. Anything that is wanted, if they will
only let us know, we will be too happy ;
remember to say that ; be sure you say we
shall be so glad to send anything.'

Here a grateful pressure from the little
hand in his caused him to look at his grand- .
son. The boy was still white, and the old
man took alarm at once. * Why, Carol — boy,
come home, come home ; it's nothing, sir ;
didn't you hear what the Colonel said } All
right to-morrow,' and he departed, dragging
his unwilling grandson after him, unheeding
his entreaties to be allowed to accompany
those of the party who undertook, guided by
the keeper, to convey our wounded hero to

24 TIM CHAP.

the experienced care of Mrs. Quitchett, for
whom, now that he was come to himself, he
had begun in a feeble way to ask.

That lady considered it due to herself to
betray no emotion in the presence of *the
gentlemen * further than a violent pull at a
wandering string of her cap, which caused
that erection to assume a sidelong position,
and imparted to her a certain wildness of
appearance, strangely at variance with the
studied impassiveness of her bearing.

There was something distrustful, even
defiant, in her manner, thinly disguised under
an assumption of extreme deference, as she
* thanked them for the trouble they had been
at, and sent her duty to Mr. Darley ; but they
had all that they wanted, she thanked him.*
Then, when she had bowed them out, paying
but scant attention to expressions of interest
and concern, she bundled off the garden-boy
post-haste for the doctor, and undressed her
charge and got him to bed with wonderful
celerity.

II TIM 25

When the doctor came he made light of
her anxiety, assuring her the boy was hardly
scratched, picked out the shot, at which Tim
winced, and departed, promising to look in in
the morning.

After the tumult comes peace, and in the
course of the long, drowsy afternoon, when
his kind nurse brought her work to sit by
him, Tim narrated the events of the morning
in his own fashion.

*You know I hate the guns/ he began,
* and I *d gone up by the hazel coppice above
Beech Farm, because I thought I should be
out of the way of them, and I was sitting in
there ; it s one of my houses, you know, — in
the dining-room I was. We were having
dinner — make-believe dinner, you know — I
and the squirrel — ^only I had to make-believe
the squirrel too, because he wouldn't come
near enough — I suppose he thought I should
hurt him, but he needn't have thought that,
need he ? Well, just then I heard voices in
the field outside, and there were the dogs

26 TIM CHAP.

quite close. I stayed quiet, for I thought
they would go by ; but there came a sound
of wings, and quick, one after the other, two
shots — bang, bang, and I jumped up to run ;
but there were shouts, and then another shot,
and I felt I was hit, and fell down, for I
thought I was killed ; and I don't remember

r

much more till I got back here.'

So far all was coherent enough, a rare
virtue in Tim's account of events, in which,
as a rule, his fancy made such havoc of mere
prose facts, that it was hard to distinguish
what he only thought had happened from
what had actually taken place. But after a
minute or two of silence he added —

*And, nurse, do you know, I think there
was an angel there.*

* Lor* bless the child ! ' thought Mrs. Quit-
chett; * now he's off, I suppose.'

* It was in the part I don't much remember,'
Tim went on ; * it was only the face. I didn't
notice it at the time, but I can remember it
now quite plain. It had golden hair, where

II TIM 27

the sun shone on it, like the angels in my
window in church, and big blue eyes. I
remember it now, though I did not notice it
then, which is odd, nurse, isn't it ? *

* There, there,' said Mrs. Quitchett hastily,
* that'll do ; you've talked as much as is good
for you, and more too ; maybe you did see
one. Now you just lie quiet and go to
sleep.' And Tim obeyed and went to sleep ;
and in the evening when the groom from the
Court came * to enquire,' a most satisfactory
account of his condition was returned to the
Darleys, which comforted Carol not a little.

That youth, as a gentleman who went out
shooting and dined late, considered himself
as formed, and spoke of the infantile brown
hoUand Tim as * poor child ' with lofty com-
passion. Now that all was going well, he
forgot his fright, and bragged quite grandly
about the day's sport to the lady next him at
dinner. * Thirty brace and a few rabbits to
six guns ; not a bad bag, was it, for a half
day?'

28 TIM CHAP.

'And how much of it did you shoot?'
asked his neighbour tartly, who was too
young herself to tolerate the boy's youthful
boasting ; damsels of eighteen do not like a
spoilt boy about the house. Carol blushed a
fine pink, and then burst out laughing at his
own discomfiture.

* Don't you know,* said his friend the
Colonel, who sat on the other side of Miss,
* that you must never ask a man that ques-
tion ? You ask what the bag was, and politely
take it for granted that each of us contributed
his fair share. Our friend there, who, with the
modesty of all truly great men, blushes at the
record of his own deeds, can't tell you in my
presence how he had to cover my deficien-
cies; besides,' he added, with a knowing
look at poor Carol, which deepened the glow
on the lad's face, 'bringing down a very
remarkable head of large game, the like of
which, I will undertake to say, is not in any
bag in the county.'

Carol, you may be sure, sat over his wine

II TIM 29

with the other gentlemen, feeling that that
was due to himself, though his thoughts
wandered continually to some mysterious
telegraphic tackle in one of the trees on
the lawn, the condition of which he was
burning to inspect, while he busied himself
with collecting various provisions from the
dishes nearest to him, to be conveyed, by
and by, to a squirrel, his prisoner and
dependant. The Squire always liked to
have the boy near himself, and used to say,
*We are all the better, I take it, for having
to be a little careful what we say.* The
conversation did not interest the lad for the
most part, being mainly political (for Mr.
Darley was a keen politician) ; but presently
his attention was attracted by hearing the
Colonel talking of the event of the morning.
* That was a strange little mortal that got
hurt to-day,' he was saying. To which the
Squire, who was a little deaf, answered
promptly, ' Ah ! thank you ; the groom came
back just before dinner. The doctor says it

30 TIM CHAP.

was nothing. Going on as well as possible,
thank God ; but it might have been a nasty
thing.'

' I am glad he's all right, poor child.
Whose child, by the way, did you say he
was? Surely not the old cat's in the
Egyptian headgear.'

* Ah ! 'pon my life, it's a sad story. I
remember their first coming down here, nine
or ten years ago it must be. They took the
old manor-house, — it should have been my
poor dear Harry's, but his wife couldn't bear
the place ; but there, she's gone, poor woman,
and it's all over now. What was I saying ?
Ah! the little boy. Yes. Ebbesley their
name was. He must have been going on
for forty; looked older, a good deal older,
than his wife ; a very handsome woman I
recollect. He had made money in India;
men get on young there — bar, civil service,
I don't know what. He's gone back there
now; been there ever since, . . .' and here
the old gentleman, observing Master Carol's

II TIM 31

blue eyes very big and fixed on him, mumbled
something to his fi-iend that had Latin words
in it ; Carol heard debetur ptteris, but did
not know what they meant.

* And the child you saw to-day was their
son/ the Squire went on ; * he was born soon
after they came here/

'And does he live there all by himself,
with that old woman ? *

' I believe he must. The old woman
must be his nurse ; I never thought of him
much till to-day. Lord knows how he s got
educated, or if he ever has. He must have
had a dull childhood ; perhaps I ought to
have seen after him, but we were never over
intimate with the parents. My wife didn*t
take to Mrs. Ebbesley from the first : you
see our Kate was a young girl then, and we
had to be careful for her, you know. But
the poor little boy must be very lonely.
Will you have some more wine ? No }
Then we'll have our coffee with the ladies.*

* My dear,* said Mrs. Darley to her

32 TIM CHAP.

husband, as he came in last of the black coats
from the dining-room, 'didn't you say that
Carol turned quite white when he heard that
little boy scream ? '

* As white as your cap, ma'am.'

* There,' said Mrs. Darley triumphantly
to her daughter, *and the doctor has told
me so often that after a sudden shock any
one ought always to take a little dose.'

Miss Kate, a kind-hearted but stern lady of
two-and-thirty, who loved her nephew dearly,
but was forced to act as a sort of permanent
drag on her parents' exuberant affection,
protested vainly that the boy looked as
well as she had ever seen him. When he
went to bed his grandmother drew him
mysteriously into her dressing-room, and
presented him with a small round globule, and
directions for use. She would have been
less pleased, I fear, with his improved appear-
ance next morning had she seen him, on
reaching his apartment, pound the medicine
up fine, and cautiously scatter the dust out

11 TIM 33

of the window, where, we will hope, some
dyspeptic sparrow was benefited by it, for
no one else ever was. It is a sad fact
that a great part of the contents of the good
old lady's medicine-chest was disposed of in
this fashion.

At Carol's age, however, a good night will
repair most nervous shocks without artificial
aids, and he was up early next morning, and
down in the garden as soon as breakfast was
over. The art of coaxing was an open book
to Carol, and he attacked the old Scotch
gardener, — with whom, as with every one
else, he was a prime favourite, — in his most
fascinating manner. After much judiciously
administered sympathy for his friend's pet
grievances, ' Please, I want a bunch of
grapes,' he said presently.

' I mayna let ye have the greeps, Masterrr
Carrel.'

* Oh but, M 'Allan, they're not for me ; they
are for some one who is ill. I must really
have a bunch, please. I'm sure grandpapa

D

34 TIM CHAP.

wouldn't mind, — and some leaves, please, to
put in this basket.'

Of course he had his way in the end, and
set off with his booty in the direction of the
manor-house, as hard as his legs would
carry him. Mrs. Quitchett saw him coming
as she stood in the doorway, shading her
spectacles with her hand, looking out for the
doctor. Did she forecast in her mind some
part of what should follow on this visit ?
She was certainly far from guessing the
whole of it.

Tim had passed a rather restless night,
full of short broken dreams, in all of which,
the 'anger of his adventure had played a
prominent part. Now that he was up and
dressed, he still felt tired, and was lying on
his favourite window- seat looking out at the
already changing trees. He heard the door
open but did not turn his head, till a strange
voice, young and clear, quite unlike the
doctor's, which he had expected, said, with a
pretty hesitation, ' I have brought you some

n TIM 35

grapes ; I hope you are all right this morn-
ing ; I . . / and there stopped, for Tim had
started up and was sitting staring, with his
heart in his eyes. There within a few feet of
him was the face he had seen in his dreams,
the face of his * angel/ It seemed quite
natural to him to hold out his arms ; God
had sent his angel to comfort him. Carol
was not fond of kissing, and had all a boy*s
horror of being seen to perform that opera-
tion, but he could not resist the mute appeal
of those outstretched arms, though he did not
know what prompted it. He went forward
half frank and half embarrassed, and stooping
down, kissed Tim's poor little pale face.
Then Mrs. Quitchett said, ' Here's young
Master Darley has brought you some grapes,'
and Tim bounced back to earth out of his
dreamland, and was taken very shy, scarce
finding words to say ' Thank you.*

CHAPTER III

... for Enoch seem'd to them
Uncertain as a vision or a dream,
Faint as a figure seen in early dawn
Down at the far end of an avenue,
Going we know not where. . . .

Tennyson's Enoch Arden.

Carol did not stay long, but promised to
come soon again, which left Tim in a quiver

of excitement, and thinking him the kindest,

the handsomest, the most brilliant person he

had ever seen. It is odd that these two boys

should have lived so near one another so long

without becoming acquainted ; but it must be

remembered that Tim*s life had been one of

cloistral seclusion. If he had been dimly

conscious at times that people spoke of the

Squire's grandson, he had paid as little

CHAP. Ill TIM yj

attention to that as to other things that they
said. Since Darley had been his home, Carol
had been much away at school, and in his
holidays, had noticed Tim, if he saw him, as
he noticed any other child about the village,
without attaching any particular identity to
him, for it is fair to acknowledge that there

*

was nothing remarkable in Tim's appearance
shrinking into the hedge with his burden of
wildflowers, as the other boy flashed by on
his pony. But now that the child was weak
and ill, and, above all, reduced to that condition
by an act of his, all Carols generous young
soul was stirred in his behalf ; and the bunch
of grapes was the first result of this blind in-
stinct of obligation to protect and cherish the
innocent victim of his bow and spear. You
may fancy if the old people at the Court re-
joiced over this touching and beautiful action
of their darling when they came to hear of it,
* What a dear good boy that is, upon my
soul ! * said the Squire, squeezing his old wife s
hand ; and she, with a tear in her eye, answered.

38 TIM CHAP.

'WeVe great cause to be thankful, Hugh!
The Lord has taken away, but He's given
again; it's like having Harry back.' And
they shook their kind old heads, recall-
ing other instances of singular goodness in
Carol, and traits of likeness to his father.
Harry had given his sixpence to the blind
beggar, and Carol had saved up his pennies
to buy a crutch for the lame boy at the shoe-
maker's. Once the Squire had met his
grandson assisting a certain crone, of great
age and most forbidding aspect, to carry a
load of faggots she had been collecting in the
Court woods for her wretched little fire.
This goody was, I regret to say, a most
abandoned old woman, and a sworn enemy of
Mrs. Darley ; refusing point-blank to attend
church, and strongly suspected of foxlike
visits to the good lady's hen-roost. More-
over, the Squire was very particular about the
sanctity of the timber in his woods. But on
this occasion he not only pardoned the tres-
passer, but gave her permission to boil her

Ill TIM 39

skinny pot over his sticks for the future ;
until some fresh outrage on her part put her
once more without the pale of society. So
the objects of CaroFs kindness shone with a
borrowed light, and were dear to his relatives
as so many proofs of the extraordinary
amiability of the lad*s disposition.

Tim became an object of great interest to
the Darleys : Miss Kate came to see him,
and Mrs. Darley, bringing jelly and other
good things, such as soft fussy old ladies love
to take to sick folk. And the Squire came
himself, saying that * Upon his word, Tim was
a very nice little fellow, and when he got
better must come to see them at the Court,'
a prospect that alarmed him not a little. And
they had plenty of chances of visiting the
child, for Tim was ill longer than could have
been expected. One day, when the doctor '^

had seen him, he stopped as he left the house
and said to Mrs. Quitchett, ' You must take
care of this little man, nurse ; he is by tem-
perament an excitable child. So slight a

40 TIM CHAP.

scratch as he got would have had no effect on
most boys, but the shock has evidently told
on him ; he is a little feverish and must be
kept quiet/

Then he paused a little, pulling at the
clematis round the porch, as though weighing
the desirability of saying more, decided to do
so, and added with just a shade more im-
pressiveness in his voice —

'Things will affect him more than other
people all his life ; what would be nqthing to
an ordinary person might kill him.'

Mrs. Quitchett sat down on a seat near,
rather hastily, and looked hard out, up the path.

* You don't mean to say he's in any danger?*
she said.

' Danger, dear, dear, no ! Don't run away
with any notion of that sort. The child has a
skin scratch that is half healed already ; that's
all. I only mean that, considering how very
slightly he's hurt, it's odd he isn't running
about again as well as ever. The boy must
have an odd constitution. '

Ill TIM 41

' He was never remarkably strong,' Mrs.
Quitchett answered, with a touch of irony ;
' the wonder was that we reared him. Such a
baby as he was ! you didn't know if you had
him in your arms or not But she was a
good nurser, though I verily believe she'd
have had a wet-nurse if I hadn't shamed her
out of it. She said the babe was a drag on
her ; she didn't let him stay so long, poor
lamb. He owes what health he's got to you
and me, sir, under Providence, though I say it
that should not.' Mrs. Quitchett was not a
great talker as a rule, certainly no gossip, and
probably to no one but so old a friend as the
doctor would she have touched on the subject
of Mrs. Ebbesley's shortcomings.

'Well, nurse,' said the doctor cheerfully,
'still under Providence, we'll have him
healthier yet before we've .done with him ;
depend on it, he'll bury many stronger people.'

But Mrs. Quitchett laid by the doctor's
words in her heart. 'What would be
nothing to an ordinary person might kill

42 TIM CHAP.

him.' The sentence made a place for itself
deep in her memory, to be recalled only too
well years after it was spoken. She had a
great regard for the doctor, — he was one of
the few people whose opinion she respected,
— and she whispered to herself as she got
Tim's tea ready, * He tried to smooth it
away, but it's better to face things. He
means what he says, for he's a man of sense,
which is more than most.' Some relic of
her anxiety must have lingered in her face
when she carried in the little tray, for Tim
said, 'Why, nurse, how grave you look;
what's doctor been telling you?' but broke
off to add, * Please, I want you to let him
stay to tea with me ; may he ? * * Him ' was
Carol, who was there again, to inquire after
Tim's progress, and whom that youth was
still very shy of mentioning by name. Carol
came nearly every day now, and his visits
did more for Tim than either the doctor's
medicine or Mrs. Darley's jelly.

' Master Darley can have his tea with you

in TIM 43

and welcome, if he thinks his grandmamma
would not object/ said Mrs. Quitchett, glad,
as on a former occasion, to escape the first of
Tim's questions by answering the second, —
glad too of any chance to make the boy look
so happy.

Carol had a fine appetite and ate more
than his host, in spite of the dinner that
would follow, for him, by and by.

* Do you never eat more than that ? ' he
asked in wondering pity.

*Oh yes, sometimes I eat a great deal,
when I've been running about,' answered
Tim.

* He makes a hearty tea mostly,' added
Mrs. Quitchett, ' though he never was much
of a boy for his dinner.' Tim sighed ; he
began to fear he was not *much of a boy'
for anything. He had never thought about
himself before, but Carol seemed to present
a standard by which to measure creation,
and he felt for his part that he fell far short
of the desired point. Carol's next question

44 TIM CHAP.

was not calculated to reassure him ; it was
one boys always ask, and grown-up men too
sometimes, and is of all others the most
difficult to answer —

* What do you do with yourself all day ? '
Now Tim*s days were always well filled,

but on a sudden it seemed to him that none
of his pursuits were worthy of mention, so
he said the best thing he could under the
circumstances —

* I don*t know ; I never thought ; some-
times I do one thing, sometimes another.*

* Do you read much ? Ain't you dull all
by yourself?'

*Oh no, Fm never dull. I like reading;
not geography and that sort of thing ; I hate
that, but fairy-tales. Do you read the
Arabian Nights ? '

*Yes, IVe read some. I like Aladdin:
what a clever chap he was. What else do
you do } '

*Oh! I get flowers, and I find out new
walks, and make-believe seeking adventures,

Ill TIM 45

and I tell stories to Bess/ says Tim, grown

bolder.

' What, the dog ? What a rum idea ! '
Tim felt he had said something foolish.

' Do you care for flowers ? ' he said hastily.

* Yes, Tm very fond of them ; Aunt Kate
is teaching me botany.'

* I don't know what that is,' says down-
right Tim, 'but I'm glad you like flowers.
I was afraid you wouldn't care for them ;
that you'd think it was childish or something.'

* Not I. I bet I could beat you at the
names of wildflowers ; but I like birds better.
Our keeper knows birds by their flight, and I
do some of 'em now. I've got a cabinet
of eggs. I'll show you when you come and
see me.' Tim was grateful and interested.

' Oh ! and I tell you what — you shall help
me with my telegraph ; I 've got a telegraph
from one tree to another, made with string
and a basket ; but it's no fun sending
messages to oneself, and Aunt Kate's no
good at climbing trees.'

46 TIM CHAP.

* Tm afraid I shouldn t be much.'

' Oh yes you will ; TU show you how, and
you shall have the easy tree. I 'm afraid its
too far, or we'd have a telegraph from our
house to this, but I should never get enough
string.' And so the talk would go on, with,
'Oh! do you do that.^ so do I,' and 'Oh!
that*s just what I always think,* — delightful
discoveries of unexpected sympathies, in
spite of great unlikeness in most things,
and innocent remarks on Tim s part, which
made Carol shout with laughter, and then
stop and explain very kindly and carefully
why he was amused, as he saw the pained
look spring into his friend's face at his mirth.

* Do you play games } ' he asked once.

* I don't care much for games,* Tim
answered innocently, 'but I play draughts
sometimes of an evening with Mrs. Quit-
chett.'

'Oh! I didn't mean that sort of game,'
said Carol ; * I meant cricket and that sort of
thing ; the kind of games we play at school.'

Ill TIM 47

* No/ Tim owned reluctantly ; * you see IVe
had no one to play with, but I should like to
learn, if you'll teach me/

* Oh yes, I'll teach you ; of course you
couldn't have learnt with no one to play with.
Mrs. Quitchett doesn't look as if she'd be
much good at bowling,' and then both boys
laughed.

' By the way/ Carol asked, after a little,
' how comes it that you and she live here all
alone ? She's no relation of yours, is she } '

* No, she's my nurse, — was, you know, of
course I mean.' Tim was beginning to be
dimly conscious that as Carol had no nurse, it
was not the right thing. ' But,' he added with
compunction at disowning dear Mrs. Quitchett,
* I love her as if she was my mother. '

* And is your mother dead ? '

* I don't know ; I think I never had a
mother.'

* Oh, you must have had one. I suppose
she's dead ; mine is — my father too ' ; and a
sweet gravity stole over the bright young face.

48 TIM CHAP.

' Poor dear/ said Tim, forgetting in his
pity for his friend that he was himself far
more alone in the world. He accepted
CaroFs explanation of the utter absence of
his mother from his life, supposing him
right on all subjects. * She must have died
when you were a baby, before you could
remember ; they do sometimes,' his instructor
had said ; he knew so much more than Tim
about everything. That youth believed
in him firmly. 'Carol says so,' became a
formula with which he would confront Mrs.
Quitchett herself, who smiled superior, but
left him his comfortable reliance.

The wisdom of Solomon was nothing in
Tim s eyes to that of this radiant being, who
was not only a proficient in such unknown arts
as cricket, but actually beat him on his own
ground of wildflowers and fairy-tales, having
acquired a smattering of Greek mythology
endlessly astonishing and delightful. Had
any one dared to deny that Carol was the
born prince of all mankind, I don*t know

Ill TIM 49

what Tim would have said to him. He
counted the hours between his friend's visits,
brightened visibly when he came into the
room, seemed to lose all heart when he left
it, and watched his every motion with looks
of jealous love. Carol, on his side, grew to
have quite a protecting kindness for the pale
child, perhaps not sorry to show off a little to
such an appreciative audience ; finding Tim
too not an unpleasant novelty and variation
from the companionlessness of the Court.

It was getting on towards October now,
but Tim had entirely forgotten the approach-
ing advent of his father, so completely did Carol
engross all his thoughts, until one day Carol
himself was the means of recalling it to him.

* Where's your father ? * he asked, pausing
in an attempt to reproduce the features of
Bess on a small lump of wax used by Mrs.
Quitchett for waxing her thread, with the
aid of that lady's best scissors.

* He's in India,' answered Tim, mechanically
giving the reply always given to him ; and

£

50 TIM CHAP.

then remembering suddenly his father's letter,
* At least/ he added, * I believe hes coming
home soon. I must ask Mrs. Quitchett
when he's coming.'

' What ! don't you know ? Why didn't you
tell me ? Shan't you be glad to see him } '
persists inquisitive Carol.

* I don't think I care much : don't believe I
ever did see him.'

' And how do you know he's coming ? '

* I forget : dreamed it, I fancy ; or else
Mrs. Quitchett had it in a letter.'

* That's more likely, / should think,' said
Carol, laughing ; and so the matter dropped,
Mrs. Quitchett not being at hand for refer-
ence as to date. And that was the only
occasion on which Mr. Ebbesley's name was
mentioned between the two boys. The circles
widened round it in Tim's memory like those
round a pebble in a stream till they merged
by degrees into the even flow of his new
friendship.

Mrs. Quitchett, on the contrary, who had

Ill TIM 51

not made a new friend these twenty years,
had wondered several times that she re-
ceived no second letter from her employer ;
wondered too, not without misgiving, what
he would think of the Court intimacy, but felt
it was none of her doing, so put it aside among
the things to be accepted, not curable, even if
harmful, by any amount of speculation.

One day — the i6th of September I think
it was — a heavy gray day, dull and cheerless,
when out of doors felt like a stuffy room, and
Mrs. Quitchett said there was thunder in
the air, Tim was restless and uncomfortable.
In vain his nurse had tried to interest him in
his accustomed pursuits. Pari-banou could
do nothing for him ; he had grown tired of
drawing princes and princesses with strange
sausage -shaped bodies and long elbowless
arms that projected before and behind ; and
still Carol did not come. The days were
getting shorter now, and there was not much
of the afternoon left.

Ah ! there he comes at last. The gate

52 TIM CHAP.

swings creaking, and Carol, hot and breath-
less, stirs the air in the dull house with his
lusty cry of ' Tim, where are you ? ' * Yes, he
knows he is late ; he's very sorry, but he had
much to do ; has been, among other things,
to get some blackberries, and has brought
them to Tim,' — not quite all, perhaps, to judge
from certain stains on the fair face, unless he
picked them with his teeth, but still a goodly
show of squashy purple berries in a pocket-
handkerchief ; — Tim must have them for his
tea; yes, that will be delightful, and Carol
will stop and help eat them.

* I've been out in the garden to-day,' Tim
says ; * the Virginia creeper is quite red in
some places, and there is hardly a rose left'

' The time's getting on, and that reminds
me I had something to ask you: will you
take care of my squirrel for me when I go
away ? He doesn't want much looking after,
— only nuts, and to have the hay changed for
his bed once in three days. Hulloa! don't
you feel well ? shall I call Mrs. Quitchett ? '

Ill TIM 53

* No, no, Tm all right ; but what did you
say ? are you going away ? *

* Oh, is that all ? I thought you knew it ;
I must have told you ; every one else knows
it : Fm going to Eton next week ; didn't I
tell you ? '

* No — you — didn't — tell — me,' poor Tim
answered very slowly. *You talked about
school, but — but — I don't know — I didn't
think; I thought you'd always come and
see me.'

' Oh ! never mind, you know,' Carol said,
rather disturbed at this unexpected effect of
his announcement ; * you'll get on all right ;
and then I shall write, and the holidays '11
come in no time, and all that'

The consolation was vague, but effectual.
After all, the separation would not be eternal,
and there would be the squirrel. Would
Tim take care of him ? wouldn't he ? How
that squirrel got over-fed when he came to
live at the manor-house !

Once started on the subject of going to

54 TIM CHAP.

Eton, Carol had much to tell, and Tim was
a wonderful listener. This was Carol's first
promotion from the ranks of a private school,
second only in importance to that of having
a gun. The topic lasted through tea, and
was still engrossing them when they were
startled by the sound of wheels, which
stopped at the gate.

* What can it be ? * said Tim ; * the doctor's
not coming to-day.' Tim was lying on the
sofa, and Carol sitting beside him. They
heard some unwonted commotion in the hall,
and Mrs. Quitchett's voice in accents of
keenest surprise.

Carol jumped up and was for going to
see what had happened ; but he had not
long to wait, for the next moment the door
opened, and he found himself struggling
fiercely in the arms of a tall yellow -faced
gentleman, with grizzled hair and whiskers,
who was straining him passionately to his
heart.

' Let me go ; what are you doing ? ' he

HI TIM 55

called out, kicking frantically ; and Tim,
supposing some damage was intended to his
idol, set up a feeble wail. It was at this
moment that Mrs. Quitchett entered, and
called out —

* Law, Mr. Ebbesley, sir, that's young
Master Darley from the Court you've got
hold of.' Then pointing to the sofa, where
Tim lay crying, whiter and thinner even
than usual, she added, ' That one s your son.*

CHAPTER IV

This child is not mine as the first was,

I cannot sing it to rest :
I cannot lift it up fatherly

And bless it upon my breast.

Lowell's Changeling,

William Ebbesley had travelled night and
day. As he neared the child that was all he
had left on earth, for whose sake he had
lived loveless for seven years of incessant
work, his impatience for his reward increased.
He outstripped the post, writing letters but
not lingering for them to be received.
What did it matter whether they were
prepared for him on this day or that? had
not they been waiting for him for months
past? He had meant to wander through
France and Italy on his way ; to visit Rome,

CHAP. IV TIM 57

Venice, Paris ; to turn aside here and there,
as fancy led him. The thought of ease and
leisure was pleasant to the weary wayfarer
on life's highway ; he, whose whole time had
for years been portioned out with the regu-
larity and monotony of clockwork, found, or
expected to find, a luxury in caprice and idle-
ness. But the thought of his boy drove
all others from his head. They would see
Europe together, and all wonders of nature
or of art should steal a fresh charm for him,
mirrored in the delight of young eyes. His
wanderings would be far more pleasantly
irregular, dictated by the wayward fancy of
a bright impulsive child, than by his own
more conventional judgment.

Mr. Ebbesley's expectations of his son
were not bounded by strict reason : he did not
reflect that the child had never even heard
of most of the countries they were to visit.
His life had not favoured much exercise of
the imagination, and all he possessed of that
quality had flowed for seven years in this

58 TIM CHAP.

one direction. It was art, literature, and all
to him ; and we have seen how widely the
conception he had built up for himself
differed from the reality. The child of his
dreams must be tall, well-made and bright-
coloured, merry and healthy, but above all
he must be full to overflowing with love to
match the love he was bringing him. He
knew nothing of children, and drew his
conclusions about a child of nine from the
feelings of his own heart at fifty, never
doubting that on the boy's side the meeting
had been as eagerly looked for as on his.
He had never learnt that to a child a
mere name such as * Father * cannot endear
a person he has never seen. Those he is
with, from whom he receives kindness, how-
ever slight, may count upon his warmest
affection ; but tell him he must love one
brought to him for the first time because
he is akin to him, and he will not under-
stand the claim.

The drive from Granthurst Station in the

IV TIM 59

crawling fly had seemed endless to the poor
man. Have we not all had those drives, when
we felt how much faster we could go on foot,
yet knew we could not? He had walked up all
the hills, in hopes that the wretched asthmatic
old horse would gain more energy for going
down on the other side. And at last he was
here — here on the threshold of happiness,
hardly daring to turn the handle of the door.
When he entered the room he never
doubted for an instant which of the boys
before him was his son ; indeed Carol,
standing in the centre of the room, was an
object which so effectually caught the eye,
that Tim, lying prone upon the sofa, in the
shadow of its high back, was scarcely notice-
able. He did not stop to consider that Carol
was some four years older than his son could
possibly be ; it was quite in accordance with
his views that the boy should be tall for his age,
and in all other respects the lad before him
realised so completely the picture of his child
which for years had made itself in his heart.

6o TIM CHAP.

Who can blame him for the sinking he
experienced as, following the outstretched
arm of the nurse, his eyes rested on the little
figure of Tim ? He put down the offended
Carol without a word of apology, and stood
looking at his son : he was too much taken
aback to make any demonstration. His
pent-up feelings had expended themselves
in the passionate clasp of Carol to his breast.
Had he found Tim alone, those feelings must
yet have found vent, and would, if they had
not counteracted his disappointment, at least
have softened it : his fancy would have been
busy to make excuses to itself for the child
which was, though it was not, the original of
his dream-child. But now fate had shown
him the perfect realisation of his hopes and
. wishes, only to pluck it away and substitute
this changeling in its place.

As for poor Tim, he was dimly conscious
that something was wrong. This tall, gray-
headed stranger, who was yet his father,
frightened him ; he felt the disappointment

IV TIM 6i

in those sad cold eyes, though he could not
understand it. For hardly more than a
minute the father and son looked at one
another, but the chill of that minute was as
a barrier between them through all their
after-intercourse.

At length, roused by some gesture or
sound of Mrs. Quitchett's to a sense of
what was required of him, William Ebbesley
stooped and kissed Tim*s forehead, and then
left the room without a word. It was neces-
sary for him to be alone, to arrange the
crowding thoughts that pressed upon his
brain, to think, to determine — above all, to
be master of himself. Half an hour after-
wards, when Mrs. Quitchett went to seek
him in the room to which he had gone — z.
little chamber by the front door, which had
been his study in the old days — she found
him sitting still in his coat as he had come in.

* I came to see if you wouldn't take some-
thing to eat, sir; Tm sorry we were so
unready for you, but if you wrote I never

62 TIM CHAP.

got it, though I wondered not to hear from
you again/

He raised his head, and answered her
almost mechanically, *Oh yes, he would
have something, no matter what — whatever
was least trouble.' She brought him the
little meal she had arranged for him, and
stood watching him as he ate in silence,
with the air of one doing accustomed things
in his sleep. Her loving old heart had lent
keenness to her sight, and she had seen at
a glance how things stood ; she longed to
smooth matters a little, but hardly knew
how to begin ; she had always had some awe
of her master, which time and distance had
not diminished, and at present he seemed in
no mood for conversation. Presently she took
courage and spoke. ' You mustn't think, sir,
the little one won't be very glad to see you,
when he finds himself a bit ; the poor dear s not
himself ; he had an accident a fortnight or so
back, and he s weak and nervous yet. Your
coming was sudden to him, poor dear '

IV TIM 63

He interrupted her almost angrily. ' Who
did you say that other boy was ? '

*'Tis young Master Darley, sir, from the
Court; it was he that caused your sons
accident while shooting, and he*s been nearly
every day since to sit with him.'

* He mustn't come any more.*

Mrs. Quitchett was horrified. *Your
son '11 fret to death without him,' she said ;
* he's going away to school soon ; let him
come till then.'

She knew what had passed in her master's
mind, and did not attempt to argue with him ;
only she begged for a little reprieve for her
darling, who was more precious in her eyes
than all the healthiest children in England.
Mr. Ebbesley considered a little and then
answered, * Very well ; but don't let me see
him.' And with that Mrs. Quitchett was
fain to be content.

Tim meanwhile clung to Carol. * Don't
leave me,' he said, again and again; *he
frightens me, that man. I don't care if he

64 TIM CHAP.

is my father ; I want you, and only you. I
don't care about him ' ; and then again,
* Promise me you won t leave me, Carol ;
always be my friend.'

Carol promised readily enough — would
have promised anything just then to get
away. He did not like emotional display,
and he was very angry with Mr. Ebbesley.
' Was that old man mad 'i ' he said indignantly
as he scudded ofif homewards. But his
wrath was not of a kind upon which the
sun goes down, and the air and exercise soon
restored him to his usual spirits. A little
breeze had come up towards sunset, and blew
refreshingly in his flushed face. * How hot
that room was ! '

And here for a time we must part
company with him. With the evening
wind in his curls, he springs out of our
story, and is lost to our eyes for a little.
Two days later he went to Eton. Tim
heard the Court dogcart whirl by the house,
on its way to the station. Did Carol look

IV TIM 6s

round? Was that his hand waving? He
could not quite tell, for his eyes were full of
childish tears.

Soon after this Tim was about again as
usual. A man had brought the squirrel in
his cage, with a message of farewell, from its
owner. But for that, life seemed much the
same as before. Had he dreamed all this, as
he lay on the high-backed sofa ?

At first even the presence of his father in the
house made but little difference : when they
met, Tim never showed to advantage ; he was
frightened, and his scared manner irritated
Mr. Ebbesley, who never guessed how much
character he had. The poor man had no
notion how to talk to the child. He patted
him stiffly on the head, and asked him ques-
tions that he could not answer. He was
like a man who, meeting another in some
foreign country, wishes to hold converse
with him, but does not know in what language
to address him. If the boy would but begin,
he thought, — would seem in any way glad to

F

66 TIM CHAP.

have him there, or claim his interest in his
pursuits, he could respond, and would. He
almost wished him to be naughty ; he knew
he could reprove him, and that at least would
be intercourse, and might lead to something
else ; only this simple shyness and silence
he was powerless to attack. On one point
he had no doubt. The life his son was lead-
ing was a most unprofitable one, and a
radical change must be made in it ; he called
him into his study and told him so. Tim
naturally had not the least idea of what he
meant. He looked very uncomfortable, and
pulled Bess s ears.

* Your education,* his father went on, * has
been sadly neglected; if you are ever to
know what other people do, it is time you
should begin to learn something.'

Tim, seeing something was expected of
him, whispered, *Yes, sir.*

' Don't call me " sir," ' said Mr. Ebbesley
shortly ; * it sounds common. I had thought
of sending you to school, but as you are

IV TIM 67

very backward, and your nurse tells me you
are not strong, I have decided to keep you
at home and give you a tutor for the present.
I have engaged a gentleman who will come
here next week.*

Tim gasped : here was a revolution.
* You don't mean Mr. Brown "i ' he asked.
Mr. Brown was the village schoolmaster.

* I know of no such person ; that is not
your tutors name.*

*Oh!*

* You can read, I suppose } '
*Yes.*

* What has Mr. Brown taught you ? I
suppose he is the schoolmaster.*

* A little jography, and sums.*

Mr. Ebbesley hesitated for a moment as
to whether it was not his duty to examine
his son in these branches of knowledge, but
came to the conclusion it was not. * His
tutor will do all that when he comes,* he
thought. * You may go now,* he said aloud.
Tim needed no urging, but was out of the

68 TIM CHAP.

room at once. On the door-mat, however, he
paused ; something perplexed him : he went
through a fearful struggle with himself, then
he knocked ; he was actuated by a strong
desire to do right, and give satisfaction. He
heard his father say *Come in,* and saw the
surprised look on his face when he saw who
had knocked. Tim stood in the doorway.
*Well.>' said Mr. Ebbesley.

* If you please,* said Tim, * you said I wasn't
to call you ** sir " ; what shall I call you ? '

* Is the boy half-witted ? Call me } Why,
" father," of course ; what else would you call
me ? ' And as the door closed again, he said
to himself sadly, * Fancy a child that does not
know what to call his own father! Is this
what I have worked and waited for } '

How came it that these two, having each
such a wealth of affection to bestow, could not
spend it on one another.*^ On the father's
side it seemed to congeal in his heart ; on the
son's it found vent in a passionate devotion to
almost the only being capable of inspiring it.

IT TIM 69

who had crossed his lonely little path. To
the birds, to Bess, to the brook in the woods he
unburthened his heart, and babbled of Carol.
But to no living person did he mention his
name, insomuch that even Mrs. Quitchett
thought he had forgotten him. One great
treasure he possessed. Not long after his
friend had gone to Eton, the Court groom
brought a letter that had come for Tim from
Carol, enclosed in one to Mrs. Darley. It
was written in a big schoolboy hand, and told
how the writer was well, and hoped Tim was,
and how he liked Eton, and found lots of
fellows who had been at his last school ; and
some day he hoped Tim would come there,
when he was a big fellow. Tim should be
his fag. He fagged for Ward, who was
captain of the house. He liked football, — that
is the lower -boy games, for in the house
games the big fellows had it all their own
way, and it was a bore never touching the
ball ; and he remained Tim's affectionate
friend, Carol Darley. And, P.S. he hoped

70 TIM csLKi^.

Tim would be careful not to turn the cage
round when the squirrel was half through the
hole into the sleeping-place.

Tim was ashamed to answer this, for
though love of story-books had early induced
him to master reading, his writing was in a
painfully rudimentary state ; and as little boys
at Eton do not write, as a rule, for pure love
of the thing, the letter had no successors. But
it supplied Tim with a motive for working
with the new tutor in a way that astonished
that gentleman, who did not know that his
object was to fit himself for Eton before such
time as Carol should be old enough to leave.

Tim's tutor does not require any minute
description at our hands ; he was one of
those extraordinary men who, though elegant
scholars and, in a way, profound thinkers, have
yet missed the rewards obtained by men
much less gifted than themselves, and are
glad of such hack-work as the temporary
education of the Tims of this world. It was
a relief to him to find that his pupil was only

IV TIM 71

backward, not incurably dull, as were most
of the lads into whom it had been his painful
duty to hammer the rudiments of many use-
less branches of knowledge.

Still, although he took a genuine interest
in his charge, which Tim repaid by a grate-
ful feeling very near affection and wonderfully
good behaviour, he neither had nor desired
any insight into the child's heart. Some men
are born without a fondness for children, just
as some have no ear for music ; their more
favoured brethren look down on them with
sublime contempt, but it is absurd to blame
either one or the other. Altogether, except
as the means of enabling him to prepare for
what he so ardently desired, this blameless,
learned fellow -creature played but a small
part in the life of our hero. That life, but
for this new element of education, was for the
present much unchanged. After the installa-
tion of the tutor, Tim saw but little of his
father, which he scarcely regretted. Mr.
Ebbesley was often away for weeks at a time,

72 TIM CHAP.

being interested in his profession and watch-
ing many cases carefully. Gradually he began
to get briefs himself, and established chambers
in London, where he spent most of his time ;
his tastes were not countrified. Mr. Darley
had called and had asked him to dine at the
Court, but the talk there was so exclusively
of Carol, of his letters, his beauty, his skill in
games, and thousand virtues, that it almost
maddened the poor man.

* You saw our boy before he went away,*
the Squire said ; * he has taken quite a fancy
for your little fellow. We owe Mr. Ebbesley
apologies, my dear, for that unfortunate
accident ; and yet,* he added graciously, * we
mustn't call it unfortunate if it makes us all
better acquainted.*

' Thank you,' answered his victim, to whom
the Squire's milk of human kindness was very
sour indeed ; * I daresay your grandson was
glad to find a young companion.* He detected
a spice of pity in the reference to Tim which
was far from pleasing him.

IV TIM 73

* Oh well, you know/ said grandpapa, * I
think he felt very sorry for having been the
innocent cause of such a mishap ; he has a good
heart, that boy, and is as tender as a girl for
anything in pain, though he's a brave boy too.
But nothing would satisfy him but that we
must send to inquire the same afternoon. He
has a spice of Darley obstinacy in him.'

* I don't think you can call it obstinacy,
dear,' put in grandmamma ; * I'm sure he's not
a difficult child to guide if you're judicious

with him. When hewas quite a little tiny thing
I always said, '' That's a child that can be ruled
by kindness and no other way, for he has a high
spirit." I recollect when he first went to the
school he was at, before Eton, I went down
there, and the schoolmaster said to me — I for-
get his name. Kate dear, do you remember
his name ? was it Watt or Watkin ? Watson,
was it 'i Are you sure ? Well, it doesn't matter
— Mr. Watson said, ''He's not a bad boy,
Mrs. Darley, but very self-willed." — '* No, Mr.
Watkins," I said, ''there you must allow me to

74 TIM CHAP.

correct you ; not self-willed, only with a great
deal of spirit/' and Tm sure I was right. And
your poor dear little boy ? I hope he's quite
well again ; he didn't look at all strong.*

' Yes, he's quite strong and hearty again,
thank you ; it was a mere nothing.*

* Oh, I'm glad to hear it ; to me he looked
delicate, but then they say I'm always saying
people are ill. May he come and see us
sometimes ? but perhaps he'd not care to, now
Carol is away ; the house is dull without him.'

*You are very good, but he is hard at
work just now, and I am afraid I must ask
you to excuse him. I have got him a tutor,
and he is pursuing a more regular course of
life than has been possible hitherto. Will
that branch line the railway talk of making
touch your property in any way, Mr. Darley ? '
plunging wildly away from the subject. It
seemed as if they were galling him on purpose ;
and when the Squire made one of his old-
fashioned courtly speeches to the effect that
* if the more exciting sports of India had not

IV TIM 75

rendered their homely partridge and pheasant
shooting too tame for him, he hoped he would
bring his gun/ etc., he answered bluntly that
he had given up shooting, and so said good-
night.

'A very curt person,' said Mrs. Darley;
' I am sure, if only in common gratitude to
that dear boy for all his goodness to little
what*s-his-name, he ought to be more civil.
Fancy a little thing like that working hard !
I only hope his father doesn't beat him.*

And so gradually the intercourse between
the two houses languished considerably.

The morning after the dinner at the Court
Mr. Ebbesley encountered Tim, his lessons
done, flying out of the house in his usual hat-
less condition. The conversation of the
Darleys was still rankling, and his tone was
not gentle as he said —

' You Ve forgotten your hat*

* I never wear one except on Sunday,'
answered Tim simply.

* Not wear a hat ! * ejaculated his father.

76 TIM CHAP.

' I never heard of such a thing ; I desire you
will begin at once/

* But they are so uncomfortable,* said poor
Tim.

* I think really it*s time you left off such
childish nonsense/ answered Mr. Ebbesley,
now really provoked. * Why can't you do as
other people do ? Why should my son go
tearing about like a butcher-boy more than
other people's ? It was evidently high time
I came home/

Tim gave in and promised compliance.
Carol, he remembered, wore a hat, and of
course he would have to when he went to
Eton, but it was pain and grief to him.
Clearly the days of liberty were over ; hats and
the Latin grammar were beginning to plough
on Tim's back and make long furrows. Mean-
while he had discovered, Heaven knows how,
the date when the Eton holidays should begin,
and he kept strict record of the days on a
scrap of paper, scoring off one each night
when he went to bed.

IV TIM 7^

At last came the long-looked-for 14th of
December, and with it Carol ; and now for a
time Tim was really happy. All the time he
could spare from his lessons was spent in
trotting about after his friend like a little dog.
Wherever Carol led Tim followed, though
his soul quaked within him at some of his
own exploits. Only when Carol rode upon
his pony Tim could not accompany him ; and
later in the holidays, when a schoolfellow of
his own age came on a visit to the elder boy,
he grew, boylike, a little ashamed of the con-
stant companionship of such a child as Tim,
which the latter needed no hints to tell
him. But in spite of drawbacks — and what
in this world is perfect i* — these were among
the happiest weeks in our hero's life. At no
later time did he have again such unre-
strained opportunities of worshipping his
idol.

Mrs. Quitchett watched all this with an ap-
prehensive eye. No touch of jealousy mingled
in her pure devoted love for the child of her

78 TIM CHAP.

heart, but she trembled lest some blow should
lie in store for him, that should strike him
through this new affection ; she did not forget,
as Tim seemed to have done, that first even-
ing of Mr. Ebbesley s arrival. At each of
that gentleman's visits from London she
feared some renewal of the talk they had had
on that occasion, — some fresh decree of banish-
ment against the unconscious intruder. That
his company should be unwelcome to any one
was an idea that circumstances had combined
to prevent from ever entering Carol's head,
but he did not like Mr. Ebbesley, and so
tinied his visits mostly when he was not at
the manor-house, to Mrs. Ouitchett's great
relief; and whatever Mr. Ebbesley may have
thought, he said nothing, and the holidays
passed over without mishap. Golden days to
Tim, speeding by as such days are only too
apt to speed, never to come back any more.
Indeed, it was some time before the boys met
again.

When Easter brought Carol back to Darley,

IV TIM 79

he found the manor-house shut up ; only-
Bess, wandering disconsolately, came and
wagged her tail at sight of an acquaintance.
Mr. Ebbesley had taken his son for that
continental tour to which he had so long
looked forward. It would be hard to say
what odd quirk in the man made him cling
to this part of his old dream, now that so
much of it had gone astray ; perhaps he had
a sort of hope that change of air and scene
might develop Tim into something more
like what he had imagined him, — that by
adhering rigidly to his programme some
result that he had looked for might follow
even yet.

And, indeed, in the strange new world to
which he was transported, Tim found much
to excite and interest him. Mr. Ebbesley
was better pleased with him than he had
been yet, but by this time it was too late for
him to overcome the feeling of constraint
and fear he always felt in his father's
presence. He was never at his ease with

8o TIM CHAP.

him. And then he was such a child, so very
young. He could not appreciate half he
saw. But William Ebbesley did not under-
stand all that, and there was no one to tell
it to him.

At midsummer it was Carol who was
absent. A visit to a friend's house, measles
in the village — I know Tim had them slightly
about that time, — a journey to Scotland with
his grandparents, and the six weeks' holiday
was gone without bringing him to the Court.
It was a year before Tim saw Carol again.
A year, which is so little to older people, is
a very long time at Tims age — a long
time for a little boy to remain fixed in his
loyalty to an idea. But Tim remained fixed
for that year and for others that followed,
there being no one to disturb his allegiance.
Carol was his almanac, all minor events
dating from the periods when he was with
him.

How eagerly he longed for the day which,
by taking him to Eton, should put an end to

IV TIM 8 1

the long separations ; he feared nothing that
might await him there, for he would be near
Carol always then, and what more could he
want than that ?

CHAPTER V

Oh 1 better than the world of dress,

And pompous dining-out ;
Better than simpering and finesse/

Is all this stir and rout. — lonica.

It was a proud day for Tim when his tutor
announced that he considered him sufficiently-
well grounded to take Fourth Form at Eton.
Tim was now twelve years old, and had
adopted a more virile costume than the
holland blouse of his youth. But for that
and his little learning, he was quite un-
changed from what we have known him.
It is circumstances and events that make
people young or old, not the years that pass
over their heads. Some few happy people
never grow up, but are boys and girls at heart

CHAP. V TIM 83

all their lives. Few of us can have reached
maturity without remembering periods when
we have felt very old, and the pleasant
shock of getting younger again; and even
in the oldest people's lives, little patches of
youth blossom out now and then. But in
boys the differences are even more marked.
Some are little men from the time they can
walk, with all a man's self-reliance and self-
conceit ; others ripen very slowly ; some
hardly at all.

Carol, who had been to school, and lived
among older people, had fancied himself
quite grown up at twelve. He dined down-
stairs and went out shooting, and talked of
Tim, as I have said, as 'poor child.' But
Tim at the same age was as much a child
as he had been at nine or eight or seven.
Any one less fitted to be put down suddenly
in all the stir and hubbub and seeming heart-
lessness of a big public school, it would be
hard to find. But then Tim knew nothing
of public school life ; to him going to Eton

84 TIM CHAP.

meant only reunion with Carol. Mr.
Ebbesley was astonished at the boy*s eager-
ness ; he knew him to be shy and rather
nervous, and could not conceive what made
him desire a way of life so unlike anything
which might naturally have been supposed to
be congenial to him. He set it down with
characteristic morbidness partly to a desire
to get away from him ; but on the whole he
was pleased at the wish, as manifesting a spirit
more like other boys than he was wont to
find in his small son. Mr. Darley had
recommended his grandson's tutor to his
neighbour ; so, to Tim*s great joy, he found
himself one bright May morning actually an
Eton boy, and an inmate of the same house
as Carol.

That youth was sixteen now, and in
Middle Division ; and any one more versed
than Tim in the manners and customs of
the strange world into which he had been
transported, could have told him that whatever
hopes he might cherish of companionship

V TIM 8s

were doomed, to disappointment. Between
a white-tied young man in Carol's position,
and a little scug in Fourth Form there is
a great gulf fixed.

That first day at school seemed intermin-
able in its dreary emptiness to the new boy.
He had a shadowy feeling that something
fearful would happen if he were a minute
late for the time at which he was told to
present himself in school, and dared settle
to no employment, for fear that hour should
come, and pass unheeded ; and in the mean-
while the long unemployed interval stretched
away dismally before him. A hundred times
he pulled out the new silver watch his father
had bought for him, to find that just five
minutes had elapsed since he last consulted
it. He ventured a little way up town, and
then came back and started afresh, but the
sense of his costume, so new to him, so
familiar to the passers-by, made him feel as
if every eye must be upon him, and he again
sought refuge in his bare little chamber. He

86 TIM CHAP.

felt SO terribly alone and uncared-for. He
heard voices and hurrying steps in the echo-
ing wooden passages, and then a silence
succeeded, which filled him with terror lest
some school was going on which he ought to
be attending. He crept along the passage
and peeped into one or two open doors ;
there were boots lying about, and little heaps
of clothes : the boys had gone to their games
and a noontide stillness reigned through the
big house. Down in the yard under his
window the shoeblack was singing a cheer-
ful vulgar song as he cleaned the knives,
sometimes interrupted by calling to a brother
menial, invisible in the inner regions of
pantry, scraps of light badinage or local
gossip. Tim would have liked to descend
and chat with them, — anything to break the
sense of being dead and forgotten that
weighed upon his soul.

Only the little boys were back as yet.
Carol was coming that evening, Tim told him-
self, and then he would lose this strange

V TIM Sy

feeling of isolation ; he had a vague notion
that Carol would devote at least the first day
to taking him about and showing him the
place. * It's a pity we couldn't have come back
together/ he thought ; but Carol had explained
to him that it was unheard-of for any boy to
return before his proper time. The weary
day wore itself out at last, but still Carol had
not arrived. Supper-time, prayer-time, bed-
time, so the boys' maid announced to Tim who
was sitting up, though it was hard work to keep
the heavy eyelids from closing. ' What, not in
bed yet, sir ? why, it's past ten. I must take
your light in another five minutes. Now make
'aste and get to bed ; you're as sleepy as ever
you can be ; we can't 'ave you little ones
sitting up like this ; there's trouble enough to
get the lights from the big gentlemen without
that.' Subsequent angry altercations in the
passage proved to Tim the truth of the good
lady's assertion. He obeyed, not having
courage to question the mandate of this
peremptory person, but it was sorely against

88 TIM CHAP.

his will. Carol would think it so unkind of
him, he was afraid, not to have sat up for
him. But perhaps he would come to see him,
just to say he had come, and good-night.
So he forced himself to keep awake ; he knew
there was a train in about half-past ten, and
it was almost that before his light was taken.
Between sleeping and waking he was con-
scious of the sound of wheels, of voices and
laughter under his window, then luggage was
dragged with many thumps along the passage.
Tim was wide awake again now, listening
with all ears. Three or four boys just come
were going to their rooms, full of talk, loth
to separate, having many things to say.
Suddenly, — yes, that was Carol's voice, talking
eagerly, questioning, answering, laughing.
Tim sat up ready to call out that he was
awake, though the room was dark, the
moment the door opened ; he never doubted
It would open. The talkers seemed to
pause just outside his room. ' I swear
youVe got fat ; hasn't he ? ' * What have you

V TIM 89

been doing with yourself?' Then a shout.
*Why, if it isn't the hyena! Come to my
arms, hyena ; how's your old self ? Oh ! I say,
come to my room ; I Ve got something to show
you, if I can find it. Never mind, Martha ;
it's the first night, you know, and we shan't
be long.' Then the voices, still talking,
turned the corner and grew fainter as the
boys retreated. Tim sat up in the dark, still
waiting, still hoping. The house wasn't quiet
yet ; little bursts of merriment reached him
yet occasionally, and Martha's voice raised
in bitter expostulation. Then more steps,
renewed hope, fresh disappointment, and
silence and blackness once more. I am
much afraid that amid the renewing of so
many interrupted interests, and meeting of
so many former friends, Carol had forgotten
the existence of his little new schoolfellow.
He remembered him next morning though,
and went in search of him.

* Hulloa, well, here you are,' he said not
unkindly, but with some embarrassment, after

90 TIM CHAP.

he had shaken hands, and while he wandered
round the little room examining everything
minutely, as a cover for his want of conver-
sation. * I suppose you*ll soon shake in, you
know, and make friends. Come to me if you
want to know anything, and if any one bullies
you — badly — just you let me know ; but no one
will : this isn't the sort of house. Nothing I
can do for you?' The truth was he was
debating uneasily what he could do for Tim.
He had often been asked to 'look after' boys
before, with whose parents he had some
acquaintance, and in such cases he had always
asked the boy to breakfast, and having been
bored for half an hour, considered his duty
done, and thought no more about him. But
Tim was different ; and then you couldn't ask
a lower boy in your own house to breakfast,
especially if he was going to be your fag by
and by.

So that Tim rather weighed on Carol's
soul with a sense of ill-defined responsibility.
He wondered whether he oughtn't to explain

V TIM 91

things to him, but didn't know how to begin ;
he felt it would be absurd to preach him a
sort of little sermon.

* I suppose you know pretty well about
things/ he said vaguely, with a rather doubt-
ful glance.

* Yes, I think so, thank you, Carol.*
*Oh! and I say, you know,' the elder lad

rejoined carelessly, *you won't think it un-
kind, you know ; but you'll have to call me
Darley here, you know ; of course it won't
make any difference in the holidays ; but it
wouldn't do, don't you see.*

Tim promised to remember, and Carol
departed feeling relieved, after a parting
injunction not to 'sock away all his money.'

* What is one to do,' he asked of his chief
friend and crony Villidge minor, as they
strolled together arm in arm towards chapel,
'with a small boy in one's own house that
one knows at home ? '

* If it's a riddle I give it up ; if not, I should
say kick him,' answered Villidge cheerfully.

92 TIM CHAP.

' No, but seriously, you know,' persisted
Carol, anxious to do his duty.

* Why, seriously, what can you do ?
Nothing. Wholesome neglect, my friend,
is the one valid principle of education.'

So Carol laughed and determined to act
on the one valid principle, the advice being
thoroughly in accordance with his own views
of the subject.

'That's what old Blow-hard (by which
name he designated one of his preceptors)
would call the great " Layssy fair " of Poli-
tical Economists,' he said. * What a mercy
we're not up to him this half!' and so the
talk drifted into other channels.

Tim saw him at dinner sitting far off at
another table, but when Carol looked round
to the corner where the new boys sat, and
nodded encouragingly, the attention thus
attracted to him made him so shy, that
he almost wished he had remained undistin-
guished. When the meal was over, and he
was retreating once more, he found himself

V TIM 93

the centre of an unoccupied and inquisitive
group of lower boys, who were giving them-
selves airs in the passage, in the temporary
absence of their social superiors.

' Hulloa, new fellow, what s your name ? '

* Where have you taken ? '

* Where do you board ? ' added a wag,
affecting ignorance of the house he was in.

At this they all laughed, and some one
added —

* Do you know Darley at home ? '
' Yes.*

* Happy Darley.'

* Shut up, Carter ; youVe a deal too clever ;
some day you'll do yourself an injury if you
don't look out'

* Come and look at the papers, Weston,'
returned Carter hastily, who was nervous
when Weston began to chaff him, and proud
of taking an interest in public affairs in
advance of most of his contemporaries.
* The big fellows choke up the library all day,
and look thunder if a lower boy comes in.'

94 TIM CHAP.

*They are very welcome/ said Weston,
who liked shocking Carter. Tm not going
to waste a precious after-two so early in the
half when IVe still got some tin ; it don't
hold out long. Besides, the Times has gone
off; it used to be full of assizes, and now it's
all politics and that sort of rot.'

*The Police News is Tommys favourite
paper, isn't it, Tommy ? Never mind, sock us
an ice and Til come with you, and Carter
shall do politics for the lot of us/

At this point the projects, literary and
otherwise, of the party were rudely broken
in upon by the unwelcome sound of ' Lower
boy-hoy-hoy,' roared lustily from the landing
above in a fine fresh young bass before
which the trebles ceased to pipe, and six
little pairs of legs went scampering upstairs.
Tim hesitated a minute, not daring to ask
whether he ought to go too, finally decided
he had better, and went nervously last.

* Here the last shall go. Hulloa, stop a bit;
you're new, ain't you? You needn't come,

V TIM 95

you know, for your first fortnight ; when
you've been here longer you won't be in
such a hurry to fag/ and Tim retired very
red, among the titters of the other little
wretches. He gave a start as on entering
his room he perceived Weston apparently
glued to the wall behind the door. * H ush !
hold your tongue. Skinny,' said that young
gentleman in a hoarse whisper ; then having
peeped through the crack of the door, he
added in his usual tones, * It's all right ; he's
sent Sawnders ; rough luck on the beggar,
but he's rather a scalliwag, so I don't care ;
besides he's fat, and the exercise will do him
good ; he'd take the prize over you any day,'
and with a valedictory punch in the ribs to
his host, delivered apparently with a view to
ascertaining the amount of flesh there, and
followed by an elaborate pantomime of having
hurt his knuckles, he slid down the banisters
and vanished.

Thus Ebbesley, as he was now to be
called, began to be aware of the fact that

96 TIM CHAP.

Eton, besides being the dwelling-place of
Carol, contained some 898 other boys, of ages
varying from his own to twenty years, whose
existence he had in his day-dreams completely
ignored, a course by no means open to him
when brought into actual contact with those
young gentlemen. Not that any one meant
to be particularly unkind to him, but he was
such a forlorn-looking little creature, his high
hat was so big for him, and his fingers so
inky, that it seemed somehow natural and
handy to launch a casual kick or slighting re-
mark at him in passing, — greetings bestowed
almost unconsciously, and which would never
have affected a more robust temperament,
but which the poor child took as indications
of a deep-seated ill-will towards him on the
part of his schoolfellows. It was all part of
the tendency to take things hard, predicted
in old days by the wise old doctor at Stoke
Ashton. He felt an atmosphere of hostility,
and froze under it, becoming very silent and
rather sulky, by no means a happy course for

V TIM 97

conciliating schoolboys. Carol with frank
boyish manners, good looks, an inborn knack
of games, and the experience of a private
school, had soon found his level, and having
punched the head of Swamp minor for calling
him * Miss Darling' on account of his fair
skin, had established a footing in the semi-
barbarous community, to which only the
strong can attain ; whereas Tim, unused to
the society of boys, forbidden by the doctor
to play violent games on account of his
health, too weak to withstand bullying, yet
too simple-minded to lie or cringe, the natural
weapons of the otherwise defenceless, was
like a person who had been long kept in a
dark and silent room, suddenly exposed in
some busy thoroughfare to the full glare of
the noonday sun ; he was dazed by the ful-
ness of life that surged around him. That
very quality which seems so full of beauty
to sentimental people like Mr. Gray (with
whose works, containing the celebrated ode
to Eton College, the head -master presents

H

98 TIM CHAP.

the students on their leaving), and which
another poet of our own day has described
in the lines at the head of this chapter
as 'all this stir and rout/ was sufficiently
bewildering to our little country boy set
suddenly down in the midst of it. We
who look back on school-life through the
softening haze of memory, forget that the
boys so perfectly satisfactory from an aesthetic
point of view have ceased to have the
power of inflicting pain upon us, while
they possess it in an astonishing degree
in the case of their schoolfellows. Luckily
for our hero, active corporeal bullying had
gone out of fashion before his day, but small
boys possess the art of wounding by words
and looks in a perfection quite unknown to
the other sex in any stage of development,
and when they give their minds to it can
make a sensitive companion's life as thorough
a burthen to him as need be wished. You,
dear lady, who read this, if you know any
little boys at school near you who have left

V TIM 99

home for the first time, ask leave for the
poor little souls to come out and spend the
day with you. Don*t stop to think that they
will find it dull, that you are not used to boys
and shan*t know how to amuse them; they
won't need amusing. It will be happiness
enough to get away from school and into a
home for an hour or two. Take the little
red hands in your delicate palm and ask kind
questions about home and family; you will
be doing a really charitable thing, and will
win a mothers gratitude when the next
Sunday letter is written; or if your little
visitor have no mother, Heaven help him,
he needs all your goodness ten times the
more. * But don't ask the elder boys ; they
would rather play cricket, and won't say
thank you.

If Tim shed a few tears in his turn-up bed-
stead sometimes, in the silence of the night, no
one was aware of the fact but that remark-
able piece of furniture, whose venerable
timbers must have absorbed too much of that

lOO TIM CHAP.

form of moisture, first and last, to have looked
on it as a novelty. He had no loving mother,
poor soul, to whom to unburthen his grief in
long incoherent letters ; he would not un-
necessarily distress Mrs. Quitchett, and of his
father he was too much in awe to dare to
complain to him of anything at Eton, after
his eagerness to be allowed to go there. To
the world at large — or rather at small, if the
coining of such an expression is permissible,
for his public was a very limited one — he was
simply a specimen of a very common form of
scug, whom exclusion from the citizenship of
games had degraded into a helotry, which
translated itself to the outward eye principally
by ink and a tendency to loaf up town and
look into shop -windows, the High Street
being built in a straight line with the College,
and to walk up it requiring consequently less
active volition than to go in any other direc-
tion. It was this tendency to follow his nose,
coupled with his love of animals, that caused
many of his walks to end in the back-yard of

r TIM loi

a rather dingy little shop where ferrets, canary-
birds, rabbits, and such small game, formed
the stock-in-trade of the dirtiest old man Tim
had ever seen. He was one day watching
the attempts of six little birds with red beaks
to attain to freedom of action in a cage where
one of them would have been rather cramped
for room, when the proprietor of the establish-
ment invited him in.

'Wouldn't yer like to take a look round
the premisses, sir ? No need to buy nothing
yer don't want. Alway glad of inspection.
IVe some remarkable nice young rats, if they
was at all in your line, and a beautiful little
terrier bitch I should like to show yer as a
pictur, not with any notion of selling.'

So Tim took a look round the * premisses,'
saw the baby rats like little lumps of raw beef
squeaking round their sharp -nosed, bright-
eyed parent, the wicked-looking lithe ferrets,
the ridiculous fancy pigeons, the stolidly
munching lop-eared rabbits, and the * beautiful
little terrier bitch,' a shivering, forlorn little

loa TIM CHAP.

mongrel, who was howling dismally in a
superannuated tub. A certain air of mouldy
dejection seemed common to all the denizens
of this remarkable yard, in marked contrast
to the shop, where a dozen canaries were all
piping and shrilling fit to burst their swollen
little yellow throats. Tim bought some
rabbits, no doubt at considerably more than
their market value, but which were cheap to
him as giving him an interest in life, and a
vested right to visit this charming emporium
at his own discretion. The owner of the
establishment made a handsome income out
of the board and lodging of those rabbits, but
a really enterprising man is never content
when on the track of a good thing, and his
efforts to dispose of other inmates of the yard
to his customer on similarly advantageous
terms were as unflagging as they were
fruitless.

' Yer see this 'ere ferret, sir, ' he would say ;
* he w" a beauty now. I shall sell *im to young
Lord Ratisbane as boards at the Rev. s ;

V TIM 103

*is lordship '11 give me whatever I like to ask
*im for sich a ferret as that, once he gets his
eyes on *im/ and so forth ; but Tim remained
undazzled. He possessed a fund of quiet
obstinacy, and he did not like ferrets ; fancy
prices given by youthful members of the
aristocracy had little empire over his imagina-
tion. But temptation takes many forms, and
this old man was as subtile as the Scriptural
serpent in his adjustment of his lures to the
special character with which he had to deal.
Finding Tim's mind not set in the direction
of sport, he plied him with pets of a more
domestic nature ; a tortoise of the most fasci-
nating ugliness was offered him on terms
which he was assured were exceptionally
advantageous.

* I don't want to over-persuade yer, sir, I'm
sure, but if you fancies tortoises, why yer
couldn't 'ave a nicer one.*

The tortoise which the old man balanced
on the palm of one extended hand, while with
the other he thoughtfully stroked a tame rat

I04 TIM CHAP.

that was ascending his shoulder, protruded its
cross face and hissed at Tim with deadly
malignity, then it withdrew permanently into
its shell.

* Tm sure it's a very nice tortoise, if one
happened to want one,' the customer said, with
his usual grave politeness ; * but you see I
have the rabbits to come and see here, and I
don t think the tortoise would be happy in my
room '

* In yer room, is it ? ' burst in the dirty old
man; *if youd 'a mentioned it sooner, Td 'a
told yer as I *ad the very thing yer wanted.
If it's a 'ouse pet yeVe in want of, what can be
nicer than a good canary ? '

'It wouldn't do/ said Tim; 'some big
fellows made Biggies get rid of his ; they said
it disturbed them when they wanted to do
their verses.'

* Why, if that's all ! ' cried the irrepressible,
• as sure as my name's Skelton, the thing for
you is dormice : they don't sing now, do
they?' he added, with engaging humour;

V TIM 105

* they won't disturb no one's verses now, they
won't.'

There was no resisting the dormice. As
Mr. Skelton fished the little balls of soft fur
out of the hay in an old cigar -box, barred
across the top with some bits of wire, Tim's
heart went out to them. There and then the
bargain was completed, and Mr. Skelton
chuckled as he jingled the coin transferred in
the transaction, in his black and horny palm.

* That's a rum little lot,' he remarked re-
flectively, as he watched the little figure
balancing the big hat trotting down the sunny
street with its new possession. * Most on
'em, they comes in and they turns the place
upside down, and they lets out the rats, and
pokes the ferrets ; and it's " Skelton, what's
this.?" and ** Skelton, 'ere," and "Skelton,
there," and "Quick, please, I'm in a 'urry,'* —
they're always in a 'urry. But this one, 'e's as
sober and old-fashioned as a little judge, and 'e
argifies and explains, and 'e says " No, thank
you," and he pays 'is money too : ah ! and 'e

io6 TIM CHAP.

won't go on tick neither; 'e ain*t like most
on *em/

The subject of this character -study had
meanwhile been visited by a sudden thought,
which he was inclined to regard almost as an
inspiration. He felt with painful acuteness
the barrier that had sprung up between him-
self and Carol. Their relations were as
different from what he had hoped as they well
could be. The most elementary knowledge
of school-life would have shown him that this
was inevitable. But knowledge of life, school
or otherwise, was just what Tim was farthest
from possessing. He remembered Carol's
fondness for his squirrel and for all animals ;
he knew that they could not be companions
and friends as he had dreamed that they
might, but surely it was in his power to make
Carol think of him sometimes. He thought
over his plan carefully on all sides, and by
the time he reached his tutor's, had come to
the conclusion that there could be nothing
against it.

V TIM 107

When Carol came in to change before
dinner, he was not a little astonished to find
on his table a little cage fitted up with a sort
of treadmill, and containing two dormice fast
asleep in a handful of hay. He searched in
vain for any superscription that might explain
this eccentric gift, and finally came to the
conclusion it must be a joke of some of his
friends. Several of his intimates were sum-
moned, but denied all knowledge of the affair.

' It must be that brute the hyena,' said
VilHdge minor. ' It's just the sort of thing
he'd think funny.'

But the youth known to his associates as
the hyena because, as the matron expressed
it, he was 'prone to risibility,' protested, on
being appealed to, that he was as innocent as
the rest.

' If Curly has an unknown admirer whose
tribute takes the form of the smaller varieties
of mammalia, I don't see why / should be
held responsible.'

At dinner Darley s mysterious present

io8 TIM CHAP.

was the great topic and joke of the top table.
Carol bore all the bantering good-naturedly,
but after a good deal of it began to feel a
little put out. To be the object of a joke
was a new position to him, and he didn't like
it. He had a perfect gathering in his room
after two, to look at the wretched little
animals, slumbering peacefully through all
the disturbance they were creating. It being
apparently impossible to discover who had put
this affront upon him, the next question was
how to get rid of the creatures. To keep
dormice like a scug of a lower boy was of
course out of the question.

Meanwhile no echoes of the mirth in the
upper circles of the house penetrated as far
down in the social scale as Tim, who was
serenely pluming himself on his tact and dis-
cretion. He had debated at first what would
be the right thing to write with this present,
and had at last solved the difficulty by deposit-
ing the offering anonymously. * He will guess
whom they are from,' he thought; *no one else

V TIM I09

would think of such a thing, or knows how
he cares for animals ; he will say something
at fagging-time.* For Carol had fulfilled his
promise of taking Tim for his fag, explain-
ing the apparent eccentricity of his choice to
the expostulating Villidge major, who was
captain of the house, by saying that he * knew
him at home,' and that fifteen minutes of
bondage, at which most of the small boys
muttered and grumbled, became to * Ebbesley '
the happiest time of the day, for then he was
sure of a smile and a kind word, and each
piece of toast made for his hero's consump-
tion became a labour of love ; he scorched
his face and burnt his fingers with perfect
equanimity, and thought scorn of Biggies,
whom he once detected doing his master's
toast at the gas. On this particular evening,
however, when he appeared as usual, Carol
seemed preoccupied, and rather sulky ; he
only said, * Let's see, have you made your
three bits, and the tea? All right, there's
nothing else ; you can jgo.'

no TIM CHAP.

Tim made some excuse to loiter a minute
or two, apparently busy at the cupboard, and
hazarded a furtive glance round the room in
search of his present. The little cage was
reposing on the top of the bed, jammed in
between a big Liddell and Scott and some
fives gloves, where it had been stuck by the
maid when she cleared the table for tea.
Just then Carol's messmate arrived, accom-
panied by his fag, and plunged anew into
the topic of the day.

'Well, Curly; found out who sent the
dormice ?*

Carol answered with what was for him to
display considerable irritation, * I wish to
goodness I could; Td give the fellow as
good a kicking as ever he had in his life.'

'Well, I can dispose of em for you any
way; here's Weston will take 'em off your
hands and ask no questions.' And giving the
cage and its inmates to his fag, he added,
laughing, 'There, it's an ill wind that blows
no one good ; I'm sure you've been dying

V TIM III

for some dormice all the half, haven't you,
Weston ? and I know you never keep any
money after the first week/

Tommy, astonished but nothing loth,
carried off his booty grinning ; and Tim, who
till then had not trusted himself to look round,
got out of the room as best he could. In
the passage he found his brother fag pausing
to examine his treasures.

' HuUoa, Skinny ! ' he exclaimed, as Tim
drew near, ' here's a queer go : what on earth
should make Darley give me a couple of dor-
mice ? I went in expecting to get pulled for
burning the toast, and see what I get instead
of a pitching into.'

Tim had got under a gas-lamp, so that
his face was black and invisible, but when
he tried to speak. Tommy looked up
suddenly.

*Why, you're blubbing,' he said; *what-
ever's the matter ? '

For all answer Ebbesley darted into his
own room, which was not far distant, whither,

112 TIM CHAP.

with mingled curiosity and alarm, the other
followed him.

* What's up ?* he asked, not unsympathetic-
ally ; and Tim, feeling he must tell some
one, sobbed out —

' Oh ! Weston, it was me who got the
dormice, and I thought he'd like them ; you
know I knew him at home, and he used to
have a squirrel ; I forgot it was some time
ago — and — ^and — ' but Tommy had collapsed
into the one chair and was shaking with
laughter ; the exquisite humour of the whole
affair was altogether too much for him.

* Oh, don't, please don't ! ' cried Tim, to
whom the matter was deadly serious. ' If
Carol should hear, he'd be angry with me;
you heard what he said, and I meant to
please him.'

* What did you call him ? ' cried Weston.
' ** Carol " ! What a name ! Oh, don't I just
wish I was a little bigger or he a little lower
down ; wouldn't I chaff him. We've always
wanted to know his name; most fellows

V TIM 113

thought it was only Charles or something, but
I knew it was something outlandish, because
he always had "C. Darley" on his letters, and
took such pains never to let it out/

* Oh dear ! ' said poor Tim, ' I seem to be
always doing the wrong thing ; please don t
say anything about it ; he wouldn't like it —
and I couldn't bear him to be angry with me.'

' What a baby it is,' thought Weston, look-
ing down at the tear-stained imploring face
before him.

' But you'll keep the secret,' urged Tim
despairingly ; ' never tell any one about the
dormice.'

Something in his utter childishness
touched the softer side of Tommy's callous
little-boy's heart.

' Yes, I promise,' he said ; and he kept his
word.

' I say, you know,' he said next day to Tim,
meeting him in one of the passages, ' I've
been thinking, Skinny, those dormice are really
yours, you know ; you ought to have them.'

I

114 ^-^^ CHAP. V

* Oh no, no ! * cried poor Skinny vehe-
mently, * I never want to see them again ; and
— and — thank you always for keeping the
secret/

So Tommy kept both the secret and the
dormice until, once going home ill for a week,
and leaving no directions as to their nourish-
ment, he found on his return that one of them
had succumbed to this prolonged fast, which
so distressed him that he made over the cage
and the survivor to a friend.

But the fates were busy with those dormice.
His new possessor, thinking that a little
sunshine would be good for the shattered
constitution of the widower, left him on the
window-sill when he went to school, and
whether it was the wind, the boys* maid, or
the matron's cat, was never known ; but on
his return the little cage lay broken in the
street, and the last of his race was embarked
on a sleep such as even he had never com-
passed in this world.

CHAPTER VI

How far too sweet for school he seemed to me ;

How ripe for combat with the wits of men ;
How childlike in his manhood. — lonica^ JL

It must not be supposed that life was
uniformly dark to Tim in these early days at
Eton. He had sources of happiness quite
distinct from his glimpses of Carol, which had
certainly turned out less satisfactory than his
hopes. After the dormice episode he was
shyer and more constrained in the presence
of his fag- master than ever. But he had
found and always kept a marvellously kind
understanding and tender friend in his tutor,
whose manly gentle soul went forth to this
forlorn little specimen of suffering humanity ;
he readily guessed that the path of such a

ii6 TIM CHAP.

baby could not but be thorny, and though he
was necessarily obliged, for many reasons, to
Ignore much of what he knew, and the whole
of what he suspected, he managed in a
hundred small ways to soften the existence of
the youngest and dreariest of his pupils. If
I do not say much of Tim's Eton tutor, and
the large part he filled in his history, it is
because, while among several thousand boys
who have passed through the school in the
last twenty years, to describe two or three is
fairly safe, it were quite otherwise to draw
anything like an accurate picture of one of
the comparatively few men who have filled the
post of tutor there during the same period.
So I may only note in passing the fact of his
untiring and thoughtful kindness, and the
grateful affection it elicited in return. His
study was a haven of refuge to Tim on many
a rainy after-four, while the employment said
by Dr. Watts to be provided for that class
of member was busily occupying numerous
pairs of idle hands in other parts of the

vr TIM 117

house. There or on the banks of the kind
old river in the shady playing-fields he
spent long happy hours with Scott or
Shakespeare for companion. Mr. Ebbesley
was liberal in the matter of pocket-money,
and as Tim's tastes were not as a rule ex-
pensive, he was able to revel in delightful
books. Had his examinations been in
authors of his own selection I have no
doubt he would have attained the highest
honours.

Another favourite resort of his was the
old chapel in the Castle at Windsor: the
grand quiet of the place, with its dim, coloured
light and ghostly armorial flags ranged over-
head, soothed and comforted him after many
a bitter childish trial ; but the highest pleasure
came from the pealing organ and the pure
true voices of one of the best of English
choirs. To Tim, whose soul was full of
melody, but whose only experience of sacred
music had been the not very perfect perform-
ances in the village church at home, the

ii8 TIM CHAP.

grand outbursts of song which the great
musicians had given from their hearts to the
worship of God, were as waters in the desert.
The first time he heard the beautiful prayer
that Mendelssohn has wedded to immortal
music, the yearning for doves' wings to fly
away and be at rest, rendered by a fresh
boy's voice, the tears gathered in his eyes,
and he forgot where he was, standing wrapped
in an ecstasy, his soul afloat on the wings of
the music. It seemed to him as if he and
this other boy no older than himself were
somehow one, that the pearly notes he was
listening to did not come from the shiny
emotionless little chorister whose mouth was
moving, but from the inmost depths of his
own heart.

Tim could not really sing a note, though
he would dearly have liked to ; but he often
had this feeling afterwards, in the following
winter, when he joined the musical society
and used to sit silent and happy between
two deep-lunged little monsters, and have all

VI riM 119

the sensation of pouring forth his being in
song. Carol, who had a lusty baritone, and
a fondness for music of the more robust and
cheerful order, having been ordered to recruit
trebles at his tutors, and finding the lower
boys for the most part unwilling to display
their accomplishments, had had recourse in
despair to his fag, who was of course en-
chanted with the prospect.

* Tm afraid I shan't be much use, but I
should like to come,* he said modestly, and
come he did with exemplary punctuality.

His relations with his contemporaries were
still, for the most part, lacking in cordiality.
He had no gift of making himself known to
them, and they were not sufficiently interested
in him to take trouble in getting to know
him. The discovery at the beginning of the
Michaelmas half that he was forbidden to
play football, set the finishing touch to the
contempt his house-fellows were inclined to
entertain for him, and except in school or at
the musical society he came in contact with

I20 TIM CHAP,

no boys but such as boarded at his tutor's.
There was one youth, however, who, contrary
to all likelihood, took a desultory interest in
Tim, and that was Tommy Weston. The
episode of the dormice had disclosed to
Tommy certain things about Tim that lay
outside the range of his daily observation of
life and character, and being of an inquiring
turn of mind, he determined to frequent this
new specimen of boy, taking at first a purely
analytic and microscopic view of him, with
which, as the weeks went by, something of a
kindlier and more human sentiment began to
mingle. I don't know what has become of
Tommy Weston since, but in those days he
promised to be a very remarkable man. He
possessed indomitable tenacity and strength
of purpose, coupled with a mercurial gaiety
of temperament, endless patience, entire dis-
regard of public opinion, immense courage,
a keen sense of the ridiculous, and a com-
posure and self-possession on which the most
trying circumstances were powerless to pro-

VI TIM 121

duce any effect. To Tim he was a most
marvellous outcome. At first the little boy
was rather alarmed by this remarkable
phenomenon, though humbly grateful for
his attentions, but by degrees he came to be
more at home with him, and Tommy was the
only person to whom he ever confided some
part of his feeling for Carol ; only a very
little and in moments of rare expansion, for
Tommy was not sentimental, and regarded
subjective conversation as more or less profit-
less. But the shy revelations of character
made by Tim struck him, as I have said, as
a 'queer start,' and as such were regarded
by him with a wonder which that youth was
glad to mistake for sympathy. ' It is cer-
tainly not on the principle of Mary and the
lamb,' he said to himself, 'that Skinny 's
partiality can be explained, for Darley don't
'Move the lamb, you know." Fancy Skinny
wandering into tutor's upper set at private,
and Villidge and all of 'em hollering out in
pupil-room, " What makes the lamb love Curly

122 TIM CHAP.

SO?"* and he was so tickled by the weird-
ness of this notion that he accosted Tim as
* lambkin ' next time he saw him, and chuckled
to himself, remarking generally, *What rot
nursery rhymes were,' in a manner calculated
to mystify that simple-minded young person.
Indeed, he was in such high good-humour
that he invited him into his room, an apart-
ment decorated with all manner of ingenious
inventions from designs of Tommy's own ;
such as an elaborate apparatus in which the
poker was involved for shutting the window
without leaving bed, and another by which
water was discharged on any assailant who
might attempt to turn the sleeping inhabitant
up in that piece of furniture. This last
machine, which was constructed with much
ingenuity out of a bandbox, a broken jug,
seven yards of twine, the leg of one of his
chairs (propped, in the absence of its limb, on
his hat-box), and the cover of his Gradus,
was subsequently destroyed by his tutor,
after deluging the matron (Tommy swore

VI TIM 123

accidentally), who was coming to administer
medicine when he stayed out in collection-
week. These and similar treasures were
displayed to the wondering eyes of Skinny,
as well as a cardboard box in which he kept
the prime fetishes of his worship ; his name,
which it is hardly necessary to mention was
not Tommy, and the date of his birth, written
very neatly in his own blood, a sheet of broad
rule completely covered with a design in
concentric and intersecting circles, of which
the object did not distinctly appear, and
another, on which he had jotted down the
numbers of all the cabs he had ever ridden
in, on his rare visits to the metropolis, and
reduced the added result, by some process
inscrutable by the unmathematical mind, to
pounds, shillings, and pence.

Now it happened one Sunday in the Lent
term when the flats around Eton were swept
by a relentless east wind, that Tommy had
agreed with a kindred soul from another
house to go with him to the Ditton woods

124 TIM CHAP.

and gather primroses ; not that the * primrose
by the rivers brim* was anything more to
either of them than the yellow primrose it was
to the gentleman in the poem, but it lent an
object to their walk, and a delicious flavour of
the illegal in the combined facts that they
would trespass, and very probably be late for
lock-up, which in those days, when chapel was
at three, closed the period of Sunday afternoon
leisure. Whether Tommy's friend was de-
tected talking in chapel and made to stay at
home and do his Sunday questions, or merely
turned lazy and preferred to read a book by
the fire, I have no means of deciding with
certainty ; but the fact remains that he threw
Tommy over when it was too late to make
other arrangements, to the no small disgust of
Master Weston, who was not fond of abandon-
ing any enterprise he had once formed. In
these straits he bethought him of Tim, who
was quite sure to have no engagement, and
went in search of him. Tim was writing his
weekly letter to his father, but consented

VI TIM 125

readily to accompany him, if he would wait
till he had finished ; and the concluding sen-
tences were rendered even more laborious
than usual to the scribe, by the distracting
behaviour of his companion, who was occupy-
ing the interval with a sort of highland fling,
while he sang to a well-known Scottish air,
just then familiarised to Southern ears by the
base uses of a comic song, these remarkable
words —

Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Oh, Jerusalem, the costermonger's donkey.

' Oh ! please. Tommy, don't make that
dreadful noise,* said poor Tim. * How can I
get done ? '

* Dreadful noise, indeed ! it's a Sabbath
hymn, you profane little wretch,* retorted the
irrepressible, at the same time pulling Tim's
inky pen upwards through his fingers, to teach
him, as he said, proper respect to his elders.

At length the epistle was concluded, and
when Tommy had stuck the stamps on wrong
side up in the bottom left-hand corner (which

126 TIM CHAP.

called forth a severe little lecture on slovenly
ways in Tim's next letter from home) they
started on their walk. Through the College
and playing-fields all went well, but once in
the open fields beyond, their progress was
considerably retarded by various skirmishes
with the class magnificently lumped together
by the boys, in their sublime innocent snobbish-
ness, as *cads,' and including the sons of all
tradesmen, farmers, and the labouring classes
generally, who happened to inhabit the neigh-
bourhood. There was not a *cad' within
miles with whom Tommy was not on intimate
terms ; he knew the Christian names, pursuits,
and family history of every old man or woman
who drove into Eton for purposes of trade
and barter, the commodities in which they
dealt, and the days when they might be
expected. There was one elderly lady whom
he addressed as Sarah, and to whom he
invariably offered marriage, regardless of the
fact that she was a matron of many years'
standing ; and an old man in a red waistcoat,

VI TIM 127

who had business relations with some one in
the town, would hang about for hours watch-
ing for an opportunity to slip unnoticed past
the window from which this awful boy had a
torrent of ever- varying chaff and nicknames
ready to pour out upon him on all occasions.
With the rising generation of cad-dom, the
lads of his own age or a little older, his
relations were, however, by no means so
friendly. He had fought with nearly all, and
licked most ; and on the few Herculean youths
who had succeeded in forcing him to beat
a retreat his vengeance had subsequently
descended, when their evil stars led them to
pass his dwelling, in the form of coals, sugar,
earth from his flower-box, or the inside round
of paper off the tops of raspberry jam ;
sometimes the pot itself, if nearly empty of its
succulent contents, would startle the echoes of
a dark night as it crashed to ruin against the
palings of the opposite house, while a muttered
curse succeeded the jaunty whistling of the
passing victim.

128 TIM CHAP.

The two boys were crossing a ploughed
field where the ridges on which they stepped
crumbled beneath their feet, dry and powdery
under the March wind, when they encountered
a detachment of small boys of the class de-
scribed above, headed by a youth a few years
older than the rest, who wore his hat on one
side in a raffish manner, calculated to provoke
remark. Tommy inquired politely if it was
stuck on with glue, or how otherwise it
retained its position.

* Just you 'old your row, young Weston,'
retorted the insulted party ; * I knows you ' ;
thus implying some mysterious secret hold
over Tommy, which that youth was hasty to
repudiate.

*Take care not to come too close,' he
replied with studied moderation, *or I may
hurt you.'

* What, you ? You're too young and too
small ; 'it one o' your own size,' said the
champion, and all the satellites applauded.

Tommy, feeling the moment for decisive

VI TIM 129

action had arrived, made a threatening
advance, whereupon the small fry scattered
and fled; and their leader, seeing himself
abandoned by his myrmidons, also retired,
but in good order, and still hurling taunts,
which increased in bitterness in proportion as
the chances of pursuit seemed to grow less.
Tim, I need not say, was made very unhappy
by this sort of encounter; and what with
these numerous delays and the fact that they
had started late for their walk, the brief
afternoon was already far spent when they
arrived at the paling they must climb to enter
the Park. Tim pulled out his watch and
looked at it doubtfully.

' We haven't more than time to get home
before lock-up,' he said.

'Well ? ' inquired Tommy, who was already
astride upon the paling, as though Tim had
started some question entirely foreign to the
matter in hand.

'If we go on, we shall be late,' persisted
Tim.

130 TIM CHAP.

* Oh ! is that all ?' said Tommy, who had
a sublime contempt for law when it interfered
in any way with what he proposed to himself
to do. As I have said, the primroses were
less than nothing to him, but having started
to pick primroses, primroses he would pick,
and a lion in the path would not have deterred
him for a moment. Now Tim had, on the
contrary, profound respect for law and order,
and if he unwittingly transgressed the most
formal of little school-rules, felt unhappy and
criminal for days afterwards.

* I think I shall go back,' he said after a
pause.

*You may do as you please,' said his
companion ; */'m going to get primroses,' and
therewith he slid down on the other side of
the paling and was lost to view. * Are you
coming } ' he shouted back.

Tim still stood irresolute : he was alone.
Tommy having vanished, it seemed easier to
withstand his influence than when under that
cold eye from the top of the fence. He was

VI TIM 131

cold ; he did not want to be out late ; he did
not want to get a poena ; above all, he did
not want to shirk fagging.

' I shall go back/ he persisted, and he
went.

'Give my love to tutor,' Tommy called
from within, ' and tell him not to worry about
me; I shall most likely be back for early
school to-morrow.'

Tim had a dreary walk homewards; the
wind, which had before been with them, was
now in his face, and he had to butt at it, head
down, and hands deep in his trouser-pockets.
Discomforts became prominent which had
before only made a scarcely noticed back-
ground to Tommy's enlivening conversation,
and the somewhat perilous excitement of his
passages of wit with the passers-by. Tim
began to wonder vaguely, not without terror,
whether he would fall into any of the wasps'
nests that his companion had so successfully
stirred up as they came along. Visions of
angry cads, still smarting with a sense of

132 TIM CHAP.

unavenged insults, flitted through his uneasy
mind, and caused him to hug the hedgerows
rather than launch across the bare fields,
where his figure would be a more conspicu-
ous object. He tried to determine on a
course of action in case of attack. Tommy,
he had observed, advanced boldly in such
cases, assumed the aggressive attitude, and
the assailants fled ; it seemed to him a fresh
proof of the unsatisfactoriness with which
matters were arranged in this world, that the
people who seemed to possess the knack of
coming scot-free out of awkward situations
were precisely those to whom it was of least
importance to do so. Something told him
that it would be in vain for him to attempt
the same line as Tommy ; some irresolution
or faltering at the last minute would be sure
to betray him, and his assumed boldness
would only make his position the less
pleasant. The conviction was forced in
upon him that to make your antagonist
unwilling to fight, you must be genuinely

VI TIM 133

anxious to do so. *And in that case/
reasoned he, * there would be no pleasure, but
the reverse, in seeing the other fellow sheer
oflf.* All of which seemed to him mysterious
and unkind. * It would surely have been as
easy to settle human nature on a plan that
should enable each individual to obtain what
he wanted.' Nor were his apprehensions
altogether groundless.

As he passed along one of the leafless
hedges a hard object whizzed by him, and
rattled on the frozen turf beside him ; there
was little or no doubt it was a stone.
Through the hedge, which was thick and
tangled, though the leaves were off, he could
dimly detect moving forms and smothered
laughter. He tried to persuade himself that
the thrower had only aimed at something in
the hedge, and that if he kept quiet they
would pass on without noticing him ; so he
crouched down as close to the bank as
possible, and kept very still.

I am compelled as a truthful biographer

134 TIM CHAP.

to admit that physical courage was not a
characteristic of my hero, and as he held his
breath in the undignified attitude he had
assumed, he could hear his heart beat loud
with apprehension. There was a pause, and
then a muttered conference, and presently
another stone followed the first. Placed as
he was, Tim was pretty safe, and two or
three succeeding missiles passed innocently
over him. Then came another pause ; the
attacking party were surprised that no
attempt was made to return fire, and they
feared an ambush.

The fact was that he of the hat had joined
forces with some other lads of his own size,
discarding the crew of weaklings who had
deserted him in his hour of need, and they
had taken up a position in which to waylay
Tommy on his return to Eton, and seize an
unique opportunity of wiping off old scores
by humiliating their enemy without doing him
any great injury. It is only fair to them to
state that there is no good ground for sup-

VI TIM 135

posing that they deliberately attacked Tim
knowing him to be alone ; they probably
thought his warlike friend was with him,
and the stones were only meant to open the
affair, and force Tommy to disclose himself.
Having debated among themselves, they
could think of no better plan than to fire
another volley, which they accordingly did,
and Tim had closed his eyes and given him-
self up for lost when he heard unmistakable
signs of terror and confusion behind the
hedge, and then the sound of a general
stampede of hastily retreating footsteps.

The next minute some one cleared the
hedge and alighted close to him, and a well-
known voice exclaimed, 'The brutes! they
were rocking a little fellow ; I wish to good-
ness rd caught one of them. Hullo! Eb-
besley, is that you? Why, how the deuce
did you get into this sort of row ? '

Tim hardly yet realised that it was Carol
who had dropped, as it were, out of the gray
sky for his deliverance, and who now stood

136 TIM CHAP.

before him, with cheeks flushed by wind and
running, holding out large kind hands to pull
him on to his feet again. He felt relieved
and grateful, and yet somewhat ashamed of
the position in which he had been discovered,
and began hastily to explain —

* I had gone to walk with Weston, and he
said something to that fellow, and he didn't
like it, and Weston went after him, and he
ran away ; and then we separated, because I
wanted to get back '

* And our friend meanwhile conceived the
brilliant plan of lying in wait for you, and shy-
ing stones at you from behind a hedge. What
distinguished bravery ! ' interrupted Villidge
minor, who had been with Carol, and who now
joined the party through an adjacent gap.

* What an infernal coward ! * cried Darley,
whose eyes flashed with martial ardour.

* He is, luckily for him, beyond the reach
of chastisement for the present,' rejoined the
more phlegmatic Villidge ; ' though I flatter
myself that a well-directed pebble was not

VI TIM 137

altogether without effect on the calf of his leg.
You'd better cut home, Ebbesley, if you want
to be in time for lock-up, and thank your
stars Darley and I happened to come along
when we did.' Tim would have liked to
thank them, but found no words, so trotted
off as fast as his legs would carry him.

* It's just as I thought. Curly,' continued
Villidge, as he and Carol followed at a more
leisurely pace ; * it's that little monster Weston
who has brought your unhappy fag into the
scrape in which we found him. I saw them
together the other day, and reflected that
collapse must sooner or later be the fate of
such a frail little vessel in the same stream
with such an iron pot as Master Tommy.'

But Carol did not at once answer; he
was watching the queer little figure scudding
along in front of them, and the sight of that
small form buffeted by the bitter weather
somehow suggested to him how unfit such a
creature must be to fight his way through
the rough places of lower-boy life.

138 TIM CHAP.

' Do you remember,' Villidge continued,
also looking at Tim, 'how much exercised
you were when Ebbesley first came as to
what you could do for him, in the way of
looking after him, and that sort of thing?
Tm thinking that this piece of knight-errantry
of yours in his behalf comes most happily to
solve the difficulty ; you could hardly have
done him a better turn, or looked after him
to more purpose than by snatching him from
the fate of the first martyr.'

'There's not much knight -what's -his-
name in having a lot of lubberly beasts run
away when you look at 'em,' replied Carol
modestly. 'Seriously though, it had just
occurred to me that perhaps I hadn't done
all I might have to make that poor little
fellow's life easy to him.'

' I can't see that it is incumbent on you to
act dry-nurse to all my tutor's scugs ; you
might keep a piece of pumice-stone in your
room to take the ink off their grimy little
hands, or save up the rough copies of your

VI TIM 139

verses to stuff your young friend's hat, and
keep it a hair's-breadth or two higher above
his ears, but I really don't see what else you
could do for him.*

* Don't you think such a boy as that must
be rather bullied among the small fellows ? '

*0h! I daresay not a bit more than is
good for him; and besides, if Tommy's
taken him up he'll be all right; for though
he'll probably land him in rows with the
beaks, he's an oracle among the lower
boys, and if he says he's a good sort, they'll
all discover they always said so. So don't
make yourself unhappy about him.'

And as Carol was not fond of making
himself unhappy, he took the advice.

CHAPTER VII

Happy places have grown holy ;

If we went where once we went,
Only tears would fall down slowly

As at solemn sacrament.

Mrs. Browning.

It is not my intention to trace in detail
Tim*s career at school, which, after all, pre-
sents few points of interest. His first two
years were certainly not a period of unmixed
enjoyment ; but other boys before and after
him have gone through much the same ex-
perience without taking much harm from it.
And after a time boys get tired of persecution,
as of other pursuits. It is not worth their
while to continue to bully, unless there is
some special reason for it, and in Tim s case
there was none ; his offences were all purely

CHAP. VII TIM 141

negative, sins of omission, absence of qualities
decreed to be necessary to salvation by the
Vehm-gericht of collective boyhood through
many generations.

Villidge was right to a certain extent in
his prophecy of the good effects likely to
spring from the patronage of Tommy.
There is little or no doubt that Tim's
ultimate admission to a recognised social
standing owed its first small beginnings to
his intimacy with that eccentric youth. Boys
go in flocks ; and if it is the fashion to treat
one of their number with unkindness, while
the active throw each his little stone, the
passive turn aside and stop their ears to the
victim's groans. We are not all thieves, and
are in the habit of returning thanks for that
fact, but when a fellow-traveller has fallen in
with a band of these gentry, the proportion
of Samaritans to priests and Levites is not
large, and nowhere smaller than among boys.
But when the tide turns, and some one with
more character than the rest picks up the

142 TIM CHAP.

wounded comrade and gives him a word of
encouragement, pronouncing him ' not such a
very bad lot/ the rest veer round, and peace
is restored. It is impossible to fix the exact
date of the change ; the deliverance is as
intangible as the persecution. To Tim it
came far more slowly than Villidge, with
his happy knack of establishing coincidence
between his wishes and probability, had
foretold for the comfort of Darley*s uneasy
conscience.

It is true that Weston was popular among
his contemporaries, but at the time of the
Ditton expedition he was still in Fourth
Form, and the Remove little boys, though
they frequented him freely and to a certain
extent admired him, would not have ac-
cepted his opinion of a third person where it
differed in any way from their own. But a
young man who had been for almost two
years in Fifth Form could not be expected to
recollect these subtle distinctions of lower-boy
life.

VII TIM 143

The leaven was working surely, however.
Tommy stuck staunchly to his prot6g6, as
they mounted the lowest rungs in the ladder
together, and by Tim's third summer-half,
when he had been two years at Eton, had
learnt to keep his fingers freer from ink, and
to wear hats that fitted him, he stood firmly
on a platform from which he could look back
with tolerable equanimity on his past troubles.
This half Fifth Form would open its portals
to him, and he would cease to be a lower boy ;
but, alas! this was also Carols last half at
school, and little as had come of his dreamed-
of companionship, that was a thought on
which Tim could hardly trust himself to
dwell. He had made a few little acquaint-
anceships since it had become the fashion to
find good in him, and was no longer desolate,
but he did not make friends readily, and these
new connections with the world around him
left quite untouched the old ruling devotion
of his life whose roots were very deep in him
indeed. Carol was almost more his hero

144 I^IM CHAP.

than ever. The very separateness of their
respective positions served to enhance his
devotion. It seemed quite right and natural
that Carol should be a king among men,
should stand at the corner of the street with
other godlike beings, his peers — yet how
immeasurably below him in the estimation
of his faithful admirer — should carry a cane
(badge of the greatest honour!) at football
matches in the winter, and play cricket for
the eleven in summer. His walls were
decorated with caps of many colours — the
eleven, the * Field,* the house cap, and many
more. Pewter cups won in athletic con-
tests occupied little carved brackets over
his chimney-piece, and the rules of ' Pop *
framed in pale blue ribbon sprawled over
half the available space on one side of
his little room. In short, he was the
typical *sweir or successful public -school
boy, and a very kindly, gentle, magnanimous
fellow into the bargain, as became his great-
ness.

VII TIM 145

Tim used to trot off to the playing-fields
in those long hot days, and lie there under
the trees, watching the light athletic figure
clad in white flannel springing hither and
thither in the game, till the other boys,
knowing his indifference to their sports,
wondered sometimes at the regularity of his
attendance at all the cricket matches.

It was Saturday after-twelve, and Tim
was occupying his usual corner, with his rug
spread on the edge of the shadow, and a half-
eaten bag of cherries beside him. The first
innings was just over, and Carol, released
from his duties in the field, came sauntering
round the ground arm-in-arm with another
magnificent young cricketer like himself.
Tim was turning his attention^ no longer
claimed by the game, to the firm red fruit,
when he heard his name spoken in the voice
that never failed to make his nerves thrill.

' Hulloa, Ebbesley !* said his lord and fag-
master loftily, but not unkindly, 'what are
you up to ? Wasting your time as usual, eh V

L

146 TIM CHAP.

* I was looking at you/ answered the little
boy simply and truthfully, wholly unaware
that his reply partook of the nature of
repartee. Carol flushed and looked a little
annoyed ; then he laughed.

* That's one for me, anyhow,* he said, as he
resumed his walk.

'Who's your young friend?* asked his
companion.

' My fag ; he's one of the queerest little
beggars I ever saw; I know him at home,
and am supposed to look after him. IVe
been trying for two years to discover the
meaning of the term, and the duties con-
nected with it.'

'You've some cheek, answering Darley
like that,' said the stout Sawnders, who, too
lazy to bring down a rug, and having neither
money nor credit wherewith to obtain cherries,
had decided to bestow his company on Tim
in return for a share of those luxuries.

* I didn't mean to be cheeky,' said Tim,
aghast ; * do you suppose he was angry ? '

VII TIM 147

' I don't believe he half liked it, before
another swell ; he got very red.'

' Oh dear me !* said Tim wearily, ' I seem
always to say the wrong thing,'

'Well, you'd better come back to my
tutor's now, anyway,' said Sawnders ; * it s a
quarter to two, and they won't begin the next
innings before dinner.'

As they went towards College, Tim, whose
mind was busy with the thought that he had
offended Carol, felt himself taken by the
scruff of the neck, and turning to expostulate,
found himself in the grasp of his tutor, who
regarded him with keen friendly eyes.
' Well, little boy,' he said, ' have you been
looking at the match } '

* Yes, sir.'

* All after twelve ? '
' Yes, sir.'

* And you mean to come back after four ?

* Yes, I think so, sir.'

' Have you done all your work 1 '
' Yes, sir.'

148 TIM CHAP.

' Then I think you had much better come
out with me. You don't care a rap about
cricket, I know, and only come here to loaf.

Mr. and I are going to drive to Burnham

Beeches this afternoon, and walk back after
tea. You and Sawnders can come too, and
when you see Weston, you may request the
pleasure of his company, if his engagements
in Sixpenny and his numerous punishments
will permit.'

* Oh, thank you, sir ; that will be jolly ! '
So the little boys scudded off in search of

Tommy, whom they found with his head in a
basin of water, preparing for dinner. They
communicated their tutor s message, while he
sputtered in his towel. Tommy was already
relatively for his age a celebrity in the cricket-
ing world, and doubted if a whole after-four
could be spared from that game.

* As to the poenas, to-morrow's Sunday, and
I shall have lots of time to do them. I've only
got the eleven o'clock lesson to write out and
translate four times, and a hundred lines, and

VII TIM 149

three copies of extra work. Well, hang Six-
penny for once ; 1 11 devote this afternoon to
the beauties of nature.'

' I like tea at that cottage/ said Sawnders
meditatively. ' They have such good bread
and butter, and real cream, and I shouldn't
wonder if tutor took a cake.'

'Sawnders, you're a white hog,' said
Tommy ; ' Skinny and I are above such trifles.
I hope there'll be jam.'

It was a lovely afternoon in the late hay-
harvest, and the drive was delightful. The
last of the wild roses still lingered in the
hedges, and the little grass that remained
uncut was starred with great white field
daisies. The boys on the back seat of the fly,
in change coats and straw hats, were in a
holiday mood, and full of silly talk. Tommy
had mounted the box, and sat beside the
driver, of whom he was an old friend, and it
was not till the vehicle very nearly carried
away the gate-post on Dorney Common that he
was discovered to be in possession of the reins.

150 TIM CHAP.

* We had better leave Eton by the quiet
way/ his tutor had said ^ ' there are so many
of the authorities who have just claims on
Weston's leisure, that we shall never get him
safe out of the place if we attempt to drive
through College.*

Of this delightful man's pleasant relations
with his pupils I have spoken elsewhere.
Mr. Ebbesley, who had been brought up at
a private school, and in the good old days
when boys regarded their schoolmaster as
their natural enemy, had looked forward, not,
it is to be feared, with unmixed dissatisfaction,
to the idea that his son would turn to him for
sympathy and help in the inevitable scrapes
which official severity was apt to magnify
into crimes. He had made his first visit
to Eton after Tim's admission prepared of
course to uphold authority and do all that
was right and proper, but determined not
to be too severe with the boy for his trans-
gressions of the rigid letter of school law ; he
was going to be very large-minded and under-

I

VII TIM 151

Standing. And behold ! there had been no-
thing to sympathise about ; above all, nothing
to condone. The little boy was so law-abiding
that he could have lived without transgression
under a far stricter code, and whereas he had
been cold and somewhat uncommunicative on
several other points, he kindled into some-
thing very like enthusiasm when he spoke of
his tutor s kindness to him. Mr. Ebbesley
told himself that he was very glad it was so,
but it seemed to him hard to be the only
person without the power of awakening his
son's affection.

Is it not significant that this chapter, which
is the happiest in my story, should be one of
the shortest ? This was a day in Tim's life
in which birds sang and flowers bloomed for
him, and for twelve hours the murmur of the
sad undercurrent that flows all through his
history had faded from the ear. For my part,
I am so glad to think of this afternoon s
pleasure that he had, that I cannot refrain
from leaving it on record, though it does not

152 TIM CHAP.

advance the action of my drama, a considera-
tion which I am well aware a writer is bound
to respect. I have been to Burnham at all
seasons of the year, from earliest spring, when
there is hardly a wash of green on the noble
trees, to latest autumn, when the ground is
ankle-deep in glorious colour, and it would be
hard to say when there is most beauty there.
I have never visited the spot in midwinter,
but I am quite sure that if one did the
familiar glades would have some appropriate
charm for his delight, so regularly does
each season lend its own especial gifts to deck
that favoured place. At Tim's age, as a rule,
a love of nature for her own sake is a rare
possession ; it is a compensation kept to
console older people for the loss of so many
other enjoyments that then made the world
bright to them. But perhaps it was because
his young life was so lacking in the ordinary
elements of boyish happiness, that this gift
of later age was vouchsafed to our little lad.
Certainly the sunlight on the smooth gray

VII TIM 153

trunks, and the peculiar dappled shadows on
the sward that only beech-leaves can cast, had
a secret to tell him on this blest half-holiday,
which would have been Hebrew and Greek
to his two playmates. I think it must have
been this knowledge of the country as the
anodyne for bruised hearts, which made As
You Like It his favourite play, for Tim read
Shakespeare, in Mr. Bowdler's edition with
which his father had taken care to provide
him. Burnham was Tim*s Ardennes, and
it would hardly have surprised him to
come on the cousins walking in the wood
while Touchstone lay hard by among the
bracken.

By this time, however, he knew too much
to communicate such fancies as these to his
companions. The three ran down steep
places, jumped off banks into heaps of last
year s leaves that still lay piled in some of
the hollows, and climbed the trees, on one of
which Tommy, who was certainly very unlike
Orlando in other respects, inscribed his own

154 TIM CHAP.

initials and those of the party, including his
tutor, who is ignorant to this day of the liberty
taken with his signature.

Tim ran, climbed, and shouted like the
others, and enjoyed himself amazingly. He
and Sawnders entrenched themselves in a
hollow tree which Tommy was to carry by
assault armed with a long stick he had found ;
but the game had to be abandoned on account
of Sawnders's not unnatural objection to being
hit really hard, which Tommy treated with
the most withering scorn.

* It isn't funny to hurt people,' said the
injured defender of the tree, ruefully caressing
his wounded member ; and this led to a dis-
cussion on the nature of true wit, which lasted
till their tutor came to call them to tea, and
inform them parenthetically that they had
made themselves look * even more disgusting
objects than usual.'

Then for the first time Tim noticed with
some surprise how tired he felt ; indeed for a
few moments he was so white that the other

VII TIM 155

master who accompanied them, observing him,
thought he was going to faint.

* Oh, it's nothing,* said Tim ; * I suppose
Tve done more than usual to-day. I didn't
feel tired till we stopped.'

Sawnders at once discovered that he was
quite used up too, but was promptly snubbed
by his tutor.

'That little Ebbesley does not look at all
strong,' said the other master, when the two
men were for a little out of earshot of their
young companions ; * are you not anxious
about him ? '

* He is certainly delicate,' Tim's tutor
answered thoughtfully ; * but I hope he may
outgrow it in time,' and on the homeward
drive he was very careful of Tim.

So happy had the boy been in the guile-
less amusements of the afternoon that for the
time he actually forgot to think of Carol.
But as they neared Eton on their return the
recollection of their encounter of the morning
and the possibility that he had offended him

156 TIM CHAP.

came back with a sudden pang to his mind —
a pang which was proved to be quite super-
fluous the very next day.

It was Sunday morning, an ideal bright
summer Sunday, and Carol was standing at
his tutor's door in rather a chastened frame of
mind. The bells were ringing for service, and
from out the houses the boys were issuing,
each in his best clothes and with a generally
brushed -up appearance. The sun shone
upon the house opposite, and made little silver
shields of the leaves of the magnolia that was
trained against it. Carol was thinking re-
gretfully how few more Sundays he should
sit in the dear familiar chapel, a boy among
boys ; and looking back across the happy
years of his school -life, — hardly a cloud had
dimmed their brightness ; — in retrospect they
seemed one unbroken march of friendliness,
gaiety, pleasure, and modest triumph. Eton
had treated him very kindly, and he was sorry
to leave. Just then who should come out
but little Tim. He had recovered to some

i

VII TIM 157

extent from his fatigue of the day before, and
had refused to stay out, though his tutor had
suggested the legitimacy of such a course if
he were so inclined.

As it chanced, the two were alone. Carol
laid a kind hand upon him and called him
' Tim.* The old nickname brought a
quick flush of pleasure into the colourless
face ; at Eton Carol always called him
* Ebbesley.*

'It's a great pity, Tim,' the big boy was
saying, 'that weVe seen so little of one
another ; that's the worst of this place, every-
thing goes in layers. If a fellow isn't in your
division, with the best will in the world you
can never see anything of him.'

'You've always been very good to me,
Darley,' Tim answered gratefully.

' You won't have to call me " Darley " any
more now I'm leaving. I say, Tim, will you
write to me sometimes next half and tell me
all about the old place ? All my friends of
my own standing are leaving too ; and after

158 TIM CHAP.

all, you know, you are really the oldest friend
of them all.'

* Oh, Carol, may I ? ' cried Tim ; but just
then an eruption of other boys occurring from
the narrow doorway, he departed to chapel
without expressing himself further. He
trod upon air ; Carol had called him by his
old name, and bade him do the like by him,
had spoken of their long friendship, had asked
him to write to him. And he had been
thinking he had offended him ! Tim offered
up genuine thanksgivings in the old chapel,
where so many generations of boys have
knelt on the threshold of life, as he and Carol
were kneeling then.

It happened that morning that the first
lesson was the beautiful lament of David over
his dead friend Jonathan ; and Tim, listening
to the history of those two friends long ago,
felt his love for his friend almost a religion to
him. *Thy love to me was wonderful,' said
the voice of the reader, ' passing the love of
woman.* ' What woman could ever love him

VII TIM 159

as I do ? ' thought Tim, as he looked naturally
to the seat where Carol sat. At that moment
a sunbeam from some hole high in the roof
fell on the golden curly head which seemed
transfigured ; and as Tim's hungry eyes rested
on the face of his friend, he turned towards
him and smiled upon him in his place.

CHAPTER VIII

Maud is not seventeen,
But she is tall and stately.

Tennyson's Maud.

Carol and Tim travelled home together at
the end of the half, speeding through the
golden summer. It was early August, and
everywhere the full-eared grain swayed ripe
for the sickle. Here and there the harvest
had already begun to be gathered in, and
the fields were dotted with the reapers, cut-
ting and binding into sheaves. Larks full-
throated hung poised in the quivering air,
the woods were in their richest summer
green ; poppies in field and hedgerow,
geraniums on lawn and terrace, blazed each
its own scarlet. Shadows were small and

CHAP. VIII TIM i6i

black, and lights broad and warm. And
above all stretched the sky, cloudless to the
horizon, and blue as Carols eyes.

To be nearly nineteen, to have left school
behind one, to be six feet high, to have fine
broad shoulders, and a brown, honest, hand-
some face, good teeth, good spirits, and a
good digestion — surely if any one may fairly
be called happy in this world, it would be the
favoured possessor of all these good things.
And yet Carol, who was all this, and more
too, was pensive as he sat with his news-
paper on his knees and stared out of window.
Leaving school is one of the first regrets of
a purely sentimental nature, that boys meet
with in life, and it lends a tinge of romance
to existence. To have come to the end of
anything, pleasant or otherwise, is always
rather a solemn thing. To fold and lay
aside a period of our life, saying, * Whatever
comes or goes, that is done with and cannot
return,' must have a sobering effect, with
however high a courage we turn to meet the

M

l62 TIM CHAP.

untried. People with whom most things go
pretty smoothly are apt to think that the
happy time just past is the happiest of their
lives, and indeed I doubt if at any later date
a healthy popular boy is likely to taste such
pure joys as during the last few years of his
public-school life. It was the first time that
Carol had ever been in any but the highest
spirits at going home to Darley. Tim, you
may be sure, respected his companion's mood,
and made but few attempts at conversation ;
the feeling of class distinction between * upper
division* and * Remove' was still strong upon
him, and kept him rather constrained. He
would have been hardly less at ease with the
Emperor of Russia, had he encountered that
autocrat in a first-class carriage, than with
this other boy scarcely older than himself in
the eyes of their elders, — for whom the dis-
tances between the various stages of boyhood
get foreshortened and lost, like the distances
between the stars ; both are so very far away.
But Carol, now he had burst the trammels of

^

VIII TIM 163

Eton conventionalism, meant to see more of
Tim, for whom he had always entertained a
friendly feeling, and as a first step towards
this footing of greater intimacy, invited him
to come up and see him next day, when they
would go for a walk together. So the next
afternoon, when the shadows were begin-
ning almost imperceptibly to lengthen, Tim
skipped off, heart elate, for the Court. His
way lay through pleasant shady woods, and
past the memorable coppice where the acci-
dent had occurred, nearly six years before,
which had first brought him acquainted
with Carol. Much of the old childish Tim
lingered in his nature, round the alien growth
of the last two years, and he was seized with
a sudden longing to revisit the scene of their
first meeting. He parted the rods carefully,
and stepped into the thicket, finding as nearly
as possible the exact spot where he had sat.
Let us leave him kneeling there, and go
before him to the Court, nor seek to pry into
that cool shade of hazel boughs.

1 64 TIM CHAP.

In front of the door at Darley Court — not
the state entrance with the tall flight of steps
and the Doric portico, but the little side-door
more generally used — is a stone porch over-
grown with clematis and honeysuckle, and
containing two benches. On the afternoon
in question it was pleasantly screened by its
festoons of creepers from the western sun,
which blazed hotly on the gravel before it,
where two fox-terriers were lying on their
sides enjoying the roasting that is distasteful
to the lords of the creation. The stillness
and hush of a hot day had fallen on the big
house, in which nothing seemed alive. The
blinds were pulled down, and an artificial
twilight reigned in the darkened rooms.
Even the gray parrot was too lazy to talk.
On one of the benches in the porch, in keep-
ing with the drowsiness around him, Carol
was stretched in an attitude of loose-limbed
repose, awaiting his small friend. He made
no effort to read the book in his hand, but
was watching with a listless eye the ap-

VIII TIM 165

parently purposeless gyrations of a pair of
white butterflies that were flitting round the
honeysuckle blossoms, the only bit of active
life in all the still picture. They darted and
whirled and turned over and over one
another in endless play, only broken now and
then by a moment's rest with folded wings on
some leaf or tendril. One of the dogs got
up and passed round the corner of the house
with that slow waddle which dogs adopt
between sleeping and sleeping, as though
they were afraid of waking themselves too
thoroughly in the short interval. By and by
the other followed, finding the sun-baked
gravel too hot even for him, and Carol was
left alone. He was conscious of a delightful
sensation of relaxation, such as he remem-
bered to have experienced in a hot bath after
a day's hunting; he had abstracted a big
cushion from the library sofa as he came out,
and rammed it into the small of his back.
What wonder that as he watched the sports
of the two butterflies he felt his eyes grow

1 66 TIM CHAP.

heavy, and the narcotic influence of his sur-
roundings beginning to tell upon him, he
gradually fell asleep.

For a while the profoundest silence rested
on the scene — silence broken at last by the
voices of women coming up the carriage-
drive.

* I do hope they'll be at home, mamma ;
I must rest after this dreadful walk.*

The speaker was a tall slim girl of about
sixteen, dressed in cool white linen.

* My dear child/ says mamma, a no longer
blooming, but still pretty woman, who was
swaying a pearl -coloured parasol over her
broad gray hat and draperies of lavender
muslin, * I have no doubt they will let us sit
down for a little, even if Mrs. Darley is not
at home.'

' But suppose she is at home and says she
isn't. Old ladies always go to sleep on hot
afternoons, or take off their caps, or some-
thing. Then if we ask to go in, what will the
poor butler do? That would be a terrible

vin TIM 167

situation. Do you remember when they
said *' Not at home" at the Chill worthy s*, and
papa insisted on seeing the cedars on the
lawn, and there were the whole party having
tea ? I never shall forget it. I thought my
ears would take a week to get white again ;
and the footman had to say he "found his
mistress had come back." She had on thin
morocco shoes and a white dressing-gown,
which is not the dress one usually puts on
for walking.'

* Dearest Violet, it was most awkward ;
don't refer to it. Perhaps, as you say, we
had better not say anything about resting.
I noticed a seat as we came up the drive;
we can sit down there.'

* And have no tea, and be too late for it at
home ! Oh, mamma, why do we make calls
when the pony's lame? It is almost in-
decent to go hot and dishevelled into
people's drawing-rooms, and with dust on
one's boots.'

Violet is going to be a pretty girl ; indeed,

1 68 TIM CHAP.

as she is well aware, she has already con-
siderable personal attractions : soft brown
hair, with red lights, a little rippled on her
temples ; brown eyes full of merriment, shaded
by long dark chestnut lashes, and arched by
finely pencilled brows ; a very fair skin, flushed
now with her hot walk, and slightly freckled
about the small straight nose ; and, rarest of
all beauties in a Northern face, a neat pretty
mouth and chin. In her white dress and
green ribbons, she is very pleasantly notice-
able, as she steps firmly along beside
her languid mother. It is characteristic
that it is she who complains of the heat,
though her step is elastic and figure erect,
while her mother, every curve of whose
rounded form expresses the last stage of
graceful lassitude, endeavours to show the
bright side of the picture.

' It will be much cooler going home, dear ;
the sun seems to have less power already ; to
be sure, we are in shade just here, which may
have something to do with it.'

VIII TIM 169

* Oh ! mamma dear, of course it has every-
thing to do with it; why, it is barely five,
and at this time of year the sun doesn't set
till long after seven, and the lower it gets the
more it blazes.'

Thus talking they arrived at the porch,
which on all but state occasions served as
front door at Darley, and Violet, who was a
little ahead, stopped short on the threshold,
and looked back at her mother with a gleam
of fun in her arch eyes.

' Why don't you ring the bell, dear } '
asked that lady.

'Come and see,' replied her daughter.
The reason is soon apparent. Just below
the bell the broad back of a youth was resting
against the wall ; his arms were crossed and
his chin sunk forward on his breast.

'Well. Some one is at home anyway,'
whispered the girl, 'and it is not only old
ladies who go to sleep on hot afternoons, it
seems : this must be " Carol." ' (By a fine
inflection of voice she expressed, maidenly,

I70 TIM CHAP.

that the familiar appellation was meant to be
in quotation marks, and was not used by her
on her own account.) * What fun ! '

* Hush, oh ! hush, dear ; if he should wake
and hear you ! '

' Well ? it seems the shortest way out of
the difficulty,* retorted Violet.

* How very awkward,' said the poor lady,
resorting to a favourite phrase of hers.
* Had we not perhaps better go away, dear ?'

But against this Violet protested ; she had
not walked all this way, to go again without
so much as leaving a card ; besides (though
she only thought this), she had some curiosity
to see what the sleeper would look like
when awake. * I shall ring,' she said.

* On no account. Violet ! I desire, I insist ;
so awkward ! ' cried her mother in an impera-
tive whisper, clutching the hand which the
girl was already raising. * Perhaps I will.
Oh dear! anyway better than you,' and she
tremblingly extended her own hand across
the head of the unconscious Carol. But at

VIII TIM 171

this moment one of the terriers, roused by
the sound of strange voices, looked round the
corner and barked, and Carol's eyes opened
with a start, to find a strange lady with out-
stretched palm, apparently in the act of
blessing him. It would be hard to say
whether she or Carol blushed the more when,
more fully roused to the situation, he had
risen and stood before her.

*So awkward,' she began, from force of
habit ; and then feeling that this was not at
all what might be expected of her, she con-
tinued, * Mr. Carol Darley, I suppose —
heard of you from Mrs. Darley — going to
try and find her at home — only lately come
to live in the neighbourhood — must introduce
myself — Mrs. Markham Willis ; my daughter.
Miss Markham Willis * ; and Mr. Carol made
a fine bow to the young lady, of whose
presence he now first became aware.

Mrs. Darley was produced presently from
some mysterious seclusion, where she had
probably been occupied much as Miss Violet

172 TIM CHAP.

had irreverently supposed. Carol's grand-
mother was a little pink-and-white old lady,
with prim sausage curls of the softest flossy
white hair on her forehead. She wore beau-
tiful caps, trimmed with wonderful brocaded
ribbon, and a great quantity of minute old-
fashioned lockets and brooches.

* I see you have made acquaintance with
our boy,' she said. * Carol dear, tell your
Aunt Kate that Mrs. Wallis is here.*

She had never got her husband's name
right till they had been married a year,
and so, as the Squire used to say when he
teased her, could not be expected to re-
member other people's, but she brought out
the mangled words with such a winning
graciousness and such an entire belief in
herself, that no one thought of being offended,
or even surprised. She had called Mr.
Ebbesley * Eversley,' ' Etherington,' and
* Ebbrington ' within the first half- hour of
their acquaintance, and Tim was either * Jim
or * Tom,' as it happened.

VIII TIM 173

»

- — - -

* How kind of you to come and see me
such a hot afternoon/ she went on. *You
must be tired to death. You must have some
tea. Kate, dear/ as Carol reappeared with
his aunt, 'never mind saying how-d'ye-do.
Mrs. Williams will excuse you, I know, while
you tell them to get her some tea as soon as
possible ; it will be better than ceremony this
hot weather; and, Kate, some of the little
ginger-bread cakes. You are not too old to
like cake, dear,' laying a kind old hand on
Violet. * As for Carol, he can't have enough
of them ; that boy will eat me out of house
and home.*

*Yes; you must eat our ginger-bread,'
said Carol, laughing. ' Grandmamma has a
wonderful recipe that has come down through
generations of grandmammas, till it has
caught quite a smell of hot ginger-bread.*

The tea was not long in making its
appearance ; it was good at the Court, like
everything else, and was drunk out of little
old Worcester cups, which the present

174 TIM CHAP.

occupant keeps in a tall cabinet, but which
were then used every day.

Mrs. Markham Willis, who was one of
the earliest victims of the now raging china
mania, was in ecstasies over the cups, and
wanted to know their date and history and
all about them ; indeed, if her daughter had
not stopped her, she would have turned hers
upside down to look at the mark, regardless
of consequences ; as it was, she held it high
and tried to peep underneath it.

* My father-in-law gave them to us ; they
were his mother's,' said Mrs. Darley ; ' the
year after our marriage it was, 1817. I
remember because of Princess Charlotte's
death, and we all had to wear mourning ; but
you are too young to remember, my dear'
(she called every one *my dear'). And as
Mrs. Markham Willis had been born some
ten years after that sad event, there was
no gainsaying the truth of the old lady's
statement.

Carol meanwhile was making himself

VIII TIM 1 75

agreeable to Violet, and by the time Tim
arrived for the promised walk, they were
getting on very comfortably together, con-
sidering their uncomfortable ages and still
more uncomfortable manner of introduction.
So much so, indeed, that Violet was not
altogether pleased with the interruption.
And any girl might be excused for liking to
talk to Carol ; he was so big and handsome,
so easy and yet so unassuming in manner,
that she wished her father could afford to
send her brothers to Eton, if this was a
specimen of the productions of that school.

They were not a large party, and three
out of the five were already known to Tim,
but the impression conveyed to him when
the door was opened for his entrance, was
that of a large company of strangers engaged
in animated conversation. Tim's experience
of female society was derived principally
from that of Mrs. Quitchett, and he was not
at home with ladies ; he had an uncomfortable
feeling that women would despise him for

176 TIM CHAP.

being small for his age and weak, having
gathered from his varied reading the idea
that they liked in the opposite sex such
qualities as were most of a contrast to them-
selves. Like most people who have seen
very few of their fellow-creatures, he was
absurdly self-conscious, and the eight femi-
nine eyes turned upon him as he entered
the drawing-room exercised a most bewilder-
ing effect on him. Carol came to his rescue
with quick kindliness, taking him by the hand
and introducing him to the two strangers.

* It is so pleasant to see so many young
people about one,' said Mrs. Markham Willis
graciously, which threw poor Tim into yet
fresh agitation, as he was painfully aware
that he was not at all what was expected in
a young person, and feared that if Mrs.
Markham Willis really did like young people
about her, and thought that she had found
one in him, she would be disappointed. It
is such a common form of egoism in children,
and one not perhaps altogether unknown to

VIII TIM 177

older people, thus to exaggerate the import-
ance of their relation to others, who have
most likely never thought at all about them.

*Is Mr. Heatherly at home now."** asked
Mrs. Darley sweetly.

' ** Ebbesley," mamma,* said Miss Kate.

*Well, dear, I said so,' returned her
mother, quite unruffled, adding sweetly to
Tim, * We see so little of him here.'

' He is expected to-morrow,' answered the
boy, who was occupied in balancing his cup,
which would slide ominously about the flat
saucer, and trying not to crumb his ginger-
bread on the carpet. * He wrote to me that
he couldn't get back before; he is a good
deal away ; I am to meet him at Granthurst.'
The cup made a sudden excursion to the
very edge of the saucer, and Tim just saved
it, turning hot and cold at once at the thought
of what might have happened. After this,
he refused any more with what was almost a
shudder, and Mrs. Markham Willis, who had
been pensively regarding the company with

N

178 TIM CHAP.

her head on one side, remarked, * I am afraid
we really must go,* as if it were the outcome
of a long conversation, in which all the others
had been pressing her to stay. In the
confusion of hunting for the pearl-coloured
parasol, which she had herself put behind her
on sitting down, Carol whispered to Tim,
* You won't mind our walk being a little cut
down, old fellow. I must see these people
home, but you will come with us, and we can
have a little turn after weVe left them.'
What could Tim say but, ' Oh yes, just as
you like ' } And so Carol offered his services
as an escort, and the four set out together.

*I don't think Mrs. Wilkes a very inter-
esting woman, dear,' said Mrs. Darley to her
daughter when the visitors were gone. * She
doesn't seem to me to care much for anything
but cups and saucers ; she asked me why I
didn't put these on the cabinet instead of
those pretty vases your father bought last
time we were in London ; and it is so tire-
some of people to have two names. Now I

VIII TIM 179

can generally remember one, but two is too
much/

Miss Kate smiled, and turned the conver-
sation to Violet's beauty ; on which subject
Master Carol also descanted a little later,
when, having deposited the young lady and
her mamma at their own door, the two lads
were going slowly across the fields to the old
manor-house. The sun slanting slowly west-
wards made their shadows long upon the
grass as they walked. Bess and Carol's
terriers trotted on before them, the former
slowly lurching in a slightly sidelong manner,
but with infinite dignity as became her years,
the two smaller dogs jumping hither and
thither, and poking their inquisitive noses
into every hole in the hedge.

* Don't you think,' Carol was saying, * that
that Miss Markham Willis is a very pretty

girl ? '

* Well, really,' answered Tim, ' I daresay
she is. Do you know, I don't think I thought
much about it ; I noticed she had a very nice

i8o TIM CHAP.

white dress, but I didn't see much of her
face ; it was rather dark in the drawing-
room, and going home you and she were
walking on ahead, so that I only saw her
back.'

* Here, Nip; here, Scamp, you little beasts!
come out of that ! ' called Carol, and added
pensively, * Yes, she is pretty ; at least I think
she will be,' with the calm superiority of a
man of the world.

*Why, how old do you suppose she is,
then ? '

* She's sixteen, she told me — quite a child ;
though when she comes out next year she
will treat me as a mere boy, and think herself
far above me. Did you see the score Potts
made for Kent the other day } Odd he
should have made duck at Lords.'

So the conversation drifted off to cricket,
in which, as in how many other things, Tim
took a profound interest as long as Carol
talked of them.

After a time the talk fell on school matters.

i

VIII TIM i8i

Carol, like most boys who have lately left,
was full of anecdotes of what had happened
*up to' this master and that ; how Smith major
once showed up the same poena, a hundred
lines of Virgil, three times to a short-sighted
and long-suffering instructor, once for an
^neid, once for " write out and translate the
lesson," and once for a book oi Paradise Lost ;
with many other such edifying details, to all
of which winged words his steadfast admirer
lent a greedy ear. From such stories as
these, they passed to more personal reminis-
cences, and Tim was forced to confess that
his early life at Eton had not been altogether
a bed of roses.

* I was rather a brute not to see more of
you there/ said Carol, 'but then boys are
brutes.'

Oh, high new standpoint from which to
look back and speak of * boys ' !

* Indeed, indeed, I did not think so,
Darley — Carol, I mean ; you were as good as
possible to me ; you could not do more ; you

1 82 TIM CHAP.

had all your friends before I came, and you
were so much higher up, and '

*YouVe a good little soul, Tim,' Carol
interrupted, * and believe in every one ; you'd
make excuses for a man who robbed and
murdered you.'

' But you never robbed and murdered
me,* the little boy answered, venturing to be
facetious for the first time. * I am sure you
did all you could, and took me for your fag
and everything. Tm glad I shall be in Fifth
Form next half, for I should never get used
to fagging for any one else.'

'Oh, I don't know about that,' said the
other deprecatingly, 'but anyway now we
are Carol and Tim again, and no longer
upper division and lower boy; I hope we
may be friends. You will have to write me
full accounts of the old place ; most of my
friends have left, so if you don't I shall never
hear anything. Mind you tell me what new
boys there are at my tutor's next half, and if
any of 'em can play football, and what new

VIII TIM 183

choices Harcourt gives their colours to, and
who are likely to give us trouble for the cup/
' How funnily it all came about, Carol,'
said Tim modestly, after promising faithfully
to comply with all these injunctions, — *my
having you for a friend, I mean. One would
have thought I was the last person you
would ever have noticed. I can't play foot-
ball, or anything you like; indeed, Fm no
good at any games.'

* You give me a good character,' answered
his friend, laughing, ' to suppose me the brutal
athlete who selects his friends by their muscle;
you don't give me much credit, it seems,
for intellectual tastes. Seriously though,' he
added, looking down at him kindly, ' you are
a first-rate little friend, and will be my link
with the dear old place.'

Tim was silent, feeling very grateful and
happy.

' I hope nothing will ever break our
friendship,' he said presently.

* Oh ! nothing ever will,' replied the other

1 84 TIM CHAP.

airily; *at least it will be your fault if it
does/

Would it be his fault ? Tim smiled at the
idea. Would he ever be the one to cast aside
what he most valued in all the world ? He
dwelt upon the thought with some amuse-
ment ; it seemed too absurd even for protest.
Could any one have foretold to us last year
eight out of ten of the things that have be-
fallen us in this, how we should have laughed
at them ! Still, though Tim laughed, one
thought seemed to oppress him even in his
mirth ; it was an odd feeling too indefinite to
be called an apprehension, and it had its root
and origin in Violet. She was the first young
girl he had ever seen placed in juxtaposition
to Carol, and the sight of the two together,
and his friend's chance remarks upon her
beauty, had opened up quite a new vista of
possibilities to him. We may laugh at the
notion of any one forecasting results from the
meeting of a lad of eighteen and a girl of
Violet's age, but we must remember the

VIII TIM 185

augur himself was but fourteen, and that to
him these other two seemed almost more than
grown up. He had come to look on Carol as
crowned with all fulfilment, a being to whom
no future years could add any power or
maturity, and Violet was tall and self-possessed
enough for twenty ; her position as the eldest of
a large family had made her old for her age.
All the complications of love and romance,
never hitherto included in any of Tim's views
of the future, started into threatening being
for the first time, the more alarming for their
vagueness ; they seemed to cast quite a new
light upon his favourite text, as he repeated
it to himself on his knees after his prayers
that night, as his habit was. * Passing the
love of woman. ' 'The love of woman ' ; he had
never thought of it that way before. He had
supposed it meant mother's love, sister's love,
all the good things he had never known, poor
child ; and could only imagine the love of
women generally as being gentler and more
loving than men. Would Carol ever be what

i86 TIM CHAP. VIII

the books called * in love ' ? ever marry ?
and in this remote and awful contingency
could they stay close friends, or had he been
assured that day for the first time in words of
the friendship he most coveted, only to see it
melt from his grasp as he claimed it ? In vain
he asked these questions of his own heart.
Of course, he told himself, some day it was
sure to happen ; he was a fool not to have
thought of it before. But what were the
words "i * Passing^ yes, ^passing the love of
woman,' — that part at least he could always
keep true.

CHAPTER IX

A little sorrow, a little pleasure,
Fate metes us from the dusty measure

That holds the date of all of us :
We are bom with travail and strong crying,
And from the birthday to the dying

The likeness of our life is thus.

Swinburne's lUcet

•You m^ght come up to-morrow afternoon,
if you cared, * Carol had said as they parted,
' and then we could go round by the old mill,
as I meant to do to-day, and you would see
the new cart-road grandfather is making in
the wood.'

And who so ready as Tim! Only, he
doubted if his father would get back in time
for him to get to the Court after he had been
to Granthurst to fetch him. Would Carol

i88 TIM CHAP.

leave it open ? And Carol had said, ' All
right, old fellow ; I shan't expect you till I see
you' ; on which understanding they had parted,
Tim standing to watch the tall active figure
striding away from the open door of the
manor-house, calling his dogs after him.

* He's a fine growed lad, that young Darley,'
remarked Mrs. Quitchett, who had come out
to welcome her nursling ; * do you remember
the day. Master Tim dear, when he came
with the grapes, the first time ever he come
here .> '

* Remember ? Oh, nurse,' cried Tim (he
always called the old lady * nurse ' ), ' he's the
noblest, finest fellow going, and I love him
better than anybody in the world — except you,
dear,' he added quickly, putting his arms about
her as he saw a quick look of pain cross her
face; and then, what was it? a prick of
conscience perhaps that made him add lower
and more thoughtfully, with just a shade of
doubt in his tone, * and father.'

Was it true that he loved his father better

IX TIM 189

than Carol ? The question had never before
suggested itself to him in that crude form.
What was the criterion of loving ? He did
not know ; he had no signs to go by. He had
assumed, as children do, that of course he
loved his father ; good people always love
their parents. It was only that vague inde-
finite class of *the wicked,' which he heard
denounced on Sunday, and to which it never
occurs to a child that he or any of his
immediate surroundings can possibly belong,
who did not love their parents. But now he
felt in his inmost being that his affection for his
father was not as strong as that for his friend,
— was not, indeed, of the same sort at all, and
he took shame to himself for the discovery.
Many of us live thus for years, allowing our
hearts to act for us, and never asking ourselves
needless psychological questions; and then
suddenly comes a time when we seem to start
up uncomfortably active and alert, new pos-
sibilities open out around us, and question-
ings of our feelings suggest themselves which

IQO TIM CHAP.

plead, importunate, for answers. Nor can
we make a greater mistake than in sup-
posing that such turns in their lives come
only to men and women. To a boy of
Tim's organisation, fourteen is an age quite
ripe for crises.

Violet crosses his path, erect, slim, and
hazel-eyed, and in a moment he seems to
understand all possible complications of love
and courtship between her and Carol. He
makes a chance little gush to his old nurse,
and lo! conscience awaking, proceeds to
inquire with uncomfortable pertinacity into
his relations with his father. When one con-
siders how those who have delicate consciences
like our hero, suffer and writhe, and run round
and round, and drive their stings into their
own brains, one is tempted to ask as the best
gift for one's dearest, a fine tough insensibility,
a happy bluntness of the moral sense. I
suppose the moralists would tell us to keep
our account with the stern goddess as clean
as possible, to put into her hands no weapon

IX TIM 191

for our torment ; but which of us can truly
boast of such a course as that ? And besides,
does not experience daily teach us that it is
precisely the most blameless among us she
selects for her favourite victims ?

Tim, as he sat over the book he did not
read that night, as he drove over to Grant-
hurst in the trap next day, could not help
asking himself, 'What have I ever done for
father, who has done so much for me ? What
have I ever given up for him ? He tried to
answer that no boys of his age can do any-
thing for their parents ; it is a matter of course
that they accept what they get. 'Ah! but,*
says conscience, Hhey love their fathers.
And though he dared not put it into words
even to himself, the thought was ever present,
though formless as yet within him, that he did
not love his father.

Poor Mr. Ebbesley ! no one did love him
that I know of ; no one ever had. He was
not made to attract love, and yet if his heart
was not breaking for it (not being of a

192 TIM CHAP.

breaking sort), it had hardened and withered
and dried up for want of it.

To have longed for love all one s life, to
have sought it with care and constantly
missed it, is as sad a fate as can well be
imposed on a man, and is not calculated to
sweeten the temper.

Looking back over William Ebbesley's life,
the wonder is that he had not turned out a
social pariah and enemy of his race. There
must have been an immense moral rectitude
about him that kept him true to what he be-
lieved to be his duty to his neighbour.

Early left an orphan by poor and improvi-
dent parents, he had been educated by the
grudging charity of people with a family to
provide for, and sent abroad at an age when
many boys have not left school, to push his
own fortunes. Uncheered, uncared-for, he
had fought his way through twenty hard
years, if not to riches, to what thirty years
ago was considered a very decent competence,
and had returned to England to fall a prey to

IX TIM 193

one of those absorbing passions for a beautiful
and penniless girl many years younger than
himself, which are so often the fate of men
verging on middle age, in whose earlier youth
there has been no room for romance. On
her he had lavished all the wealth of love
that had for years accumulated in his lonely
heart. I would dwell as lightly as possible
on the painful and bitter episode of his
short married life ; of the way it ended I
have already given a hint in an earlier
chapter of this story. Just where he had
placed all his hopes of happiness, the bitter-
est shame and sorrow of his life had lain in
wait for him.

Many men would have been utterly
crushed by such an end of all that they
had longed and worked for, and laid down
their arms in the unequal struggle with fate.
But Ebbesley, half ruined by the extravagance
of the woman he had loved, wounded to the
heart by her cruelty, and humiliated in every
fibre of his proud nature by her unfaithfulness,

o

194 TTAf CHAP.

had yet one link that bound him to the world,
one thing left to work for. It was such a
fragile thread, the poor little year-old baby,
by which to hang on to affection and grace
and the beauty of life, but it was his all, and
he grasped it despairingly. For the baby s
sake he had gone uncomplainingly back to
years more of the banishment he had thought
ended, and the labour he believed accom-
plished, even separating himself from the
child for the child's good. We have seen
how he dwelt in secret on what his son was
to look like, and be like ; how often in his
own mind he had foreseen the manner of
their meeting ; and how, when the time was
come, he had chafed at every delay, count-
ing trains and steamboats but crawling
snails compared to the wings of love that
were bearing him back to his little one.
And we have seen too what awaited him
at home. If I have wearied my reader with
insisting on the barrenness of this man's
life, it is because I am full of pity for him,

IX TIM 195

and would not have him judged too hardly,
if in what follows he seems unkind to his
son.

Tim arrived at Granthurst in a chastened
frame of mind, and endeavoured to blot him-
self out of the gaze of the few unemployed
people always waiting about a station, who
seized on him as lawful prey, and stared as
though with a view to his identification on the
morrow before a jury of their fellow-citizens.
From this scrutiny, which was peculiarly
trying and distasteful to him, he was shortly
delivered by the arrival of a hot dog, who was
brought in resisting violently and tied to a
post, and upon whom all the interest of the
unoccupied population, for a moment directed
at him, fastened itself with avidity, leaving
Tim once more to his compunctions. The
first outcome of his meditations was an unusual
infusion of tenderness and spontaneity in the
greeting kiss he bestowed upon his father,
when in due course the train brought up beside
the platform, and Mr. Ebbesley descended,

196 TIM CHAP.

bending a cindery whisker towards the fresh
young lips.

As they were mounting into their con-
veyance, and the aggressive whiteness of the
* W. E./ which from the side of his black bag
thrust its owner's personality on a reluctant
public, was being eclipsed under the seat, a
new anxiety suggested itself to Tim, which
his previous train of thought had for the time
kept under. Mindful of Carols invitation, he
consulted his watch, and found that his power
to avail himself of it would depend upon
whether Mr. Ebbesley had any business in
Granthurst, or meant to return at once to
Stoke Ashton ; timidly, but with a manner of
studied unconcern, he asked the question, and
to his delight his father answered that he was
going straight home. It seemed as though
his mind in its rebound, as this weight was
lifted off it, scattered the doubts and fears
that had oppressed it all the morning, and he
felt light of heart, and inclined to chatter as
the carriage rolled on its way over breezy

IX TIM 197

commons, or plunged into deep shady lanes.
In the days when Tim was a schoolboy
August was still a hot month, and the warm
sun called an unusual glow into his cheek at
the edge of the shadow cast by his straw hat
with its pretty ribbon.

* Eton has certainly improved him,' thought
Mr. Ebbesley, looking at him half critically ;
* he has lost his whipped-dog expression,' and
he smiled approvingly at his son, saying with
frosty geniality, * You must tell me all about
last half; how have you been doing at school.'*'

* Oh ! it has been a very jolly half, and I
have hardly stayed out at all, although it was
so hot. I wrote you that I took 13th in
trials. Tommy Weston said it was an un-
lucky number, but I told him he would not
have thought so if he had been there in the
list instead of 25th.'

' And who is Tommy Weston ? ' asked
Mr. Ebbesley, feeling quite friendly towards
this other man's son who had done less well
than his own.

198 TIM CHAP.

* Tommy isn't his real name, you know,'
explained Tim ; * he's a fellow at m'-tutor s,
and the other fellows call him Tommy ; he's
been very jolly to me, and, indeed, I get on
better with all the fellows than I did at first.
And I've "passed," which means, don't you
know, that I can swim, and may go on the
river, and I think J rather doubtfully, * I'm
beginning to like cricket a little/

* That's a good thing,' said his father
judicially; 'it is always well in life to like
what other people like; eccentricity always
brings unhappiness.'

Tim glowed and expanded with the
pleasant sense of having done the right
thing; it was such a new and strange
sensation. *And I've grown,' he said ex-
ultingly ; * I 'm two inches taller than I was
in the spring.'

* Capital,' said Mr. Ebbesley, almost with
enthusiasm ; and he thought, ' It is not always
the boys who grow young who turn out the
finest men in the end.' 'And your tutor .'^'

IX TIM 199

he asked ; * I hope he is satisfied with
you.'

*0h! m'-tutor's been awfully good to
me ; he always is ; he took me to Burnham
Beeches the other day, and we had a
delightful afternoon, and he*s promised to
give me a good report. I was 5th in collec-
tions, and if I had been 3d I should have got
a prize ; so tutor said he would give me a
little book anyway, and he wrote **to con-
sole " in it, because he said it was hard luck
on me being just out of it, and I had worked
very well all the half. Wasn't it kind of
him?'

In his heart Mr. Ebbesley thought it was
a foolish indulgence, but he was feeling so
amiably towards his son just then that he let
it pass without comment. Indeed, he seemed
altogether in so gracious a mood as he sat
listening with a grave smile to all that he
was told, though he did not say much, that
Tim was presently encouraged, rambling
from one subject to another, to speak of

200 TIM CHAP.

Carol. He had never felt so near to his
father before, so able to talk freely to him of
what was in his heart. Ordinarily he did
not say much about his friend ; his father
never seemed to be pleased at his affection
for him. To tell the truth, the poor man
had not forgiven Carol the awkwardness of
their first meeting, and the innocent part he
had borne in the disappointment of all his
most cherished expectations. And it was
not enough that this boy who was not
his, by keeping before his eyes the perfect
realisation of all that he had desired in his
own son, seemed always to mock him ; but
he must needs come between him and that
son, such as he was, and steal the affections
that were his by every right, and add to the
wealth of love lavished on him by his own
kinsfolk. Truly, *to him that hath shall be
given, and from him that hath not shall be
taken away even that which he hath.* It
was by a law as natural as that of gravitation
that the ewe-lamb was added to the flocks

IX TIM 20I

and herds of the rich man, and the wonder
is that Nathan should have seen anything
odd in the arrangement. Still this is a hard
saying, and a view of matters that has
seemed unjust to generations of men, from
the prophet down to William Ebbesley, who
certainly needed and would have appreciated
a little affection far more than the fortunate
Carol. In fact, he was jealous; and strange
as it may seem that a father should be jealous
of his son*s friends, it is by no means so rare
a thing as might be supposed. No parent
can help a certain humiliation and annoyance
at the thought of a child's undoubted pre-
ference of another to himself. Many people
under these circumstances make the grievous
mistake of trying to separate their sons from
the objects of their jealousy, but in no case
is this treatment successful. Some lads turn
sulky under it, and nurse bitter feelings in
secret, while others break out into open
defiance and rebellion, when all sorts of
trouble ensue. Of course the parents do

202 TIM CHAP.

not admit for a moment that it is jealousy
that prompts their course ; there are always
admirable reasons why the objectionable
person is not a good friend for their off-
spring. Mr. Ebbesley would probably have
repudiated with scorn the idea of his being
jealous of Tim s affection for Carol Darley,
but it galled and irritated him none the less ;
until he had come to entertain such a hearty
dislike of his young neighbour as he would
have been slow to acknowledge even to
himself. He did not consider how little
pains he had taken to secure the gift which
he grudged to another; in his own way he
loved his son strongly, but not having found
him such as he had hoped, he could not give
him that approving affection which alone
conveys the idea of love to a child's mind.
All the same, it did not strike him as any-
thing less than reasonable to expect that the
boy should be intuitively aware of this hidden
love of his, and respond to it as warmly as
though it were expressed. He knew he had

IX TIM 203

the feeling, but did not reflect that he never
showed it. And though Tim was as far from
guessing his father's real sentiments with
regard to his friend as he was from divining
his love for himself, he felt instinctively,
though dimly, that the subject of Carol was
not a welcome one to Mr. Ebbesley, and that
he would therefore do well, without actually
disguising the fact of his intimacy with him,
to see him quietly, and talk of him as little as
possible. And this was not a difficult course
to pursue, as Mr. Ebbesley rarely encouraged
much conversation from him on any subject,
and still more rarely made any inquiries as to
where, how, or with whom he spent his time
when they were apart.

But on this particular afternoon he
seemed, as I have said, so kind, and Tim
was feeling so warmly towards him, and
everything was working so well towards
the gratification of his wish to be off* to the
Court in time for the promised walk, that he
said in the lightness of his heart, * I am

204 TIM CHAP.

glad you had no business in Granthurst,
father.'

' Why so "i ' asked his father, wondering in
his own mind if he were going to suggest
their doing anything together, and deter-
mined beforehand to accede to any such
proposition, even though he had to put off
looking over the law-papers he had brought
down with him till the next day.

'Well, you see, I was to have gone a
walk with Carol Darley yesterday, but there
were people calling at the Court, and he had
to go back with them, so we couldn't have
our walk. And he said we might go this
afternoon, but I wasn't sure if I should be
back in time ; . if you'd had to stay in Grant-
hurst it would have made it too late. So we
left it open. It was to depend on that.
That's why I wanted to know if you were
coming straight home. I'm awfully glad.'

It was one of Mr. Ebbesley's idiosyn-
crasies that he always paused before answer-
ing any one just long enough to make his

IX TIM 205

interlocutor feel awkwardly uncertain whether
he had heard or not ; so that Tim, who was
accustomed to his ways, was not for a moment
or two surprised at his silence.

When he did speak it was to say slowly, and
in a voice from which all traces either of affec-
tion or resentment were equally removed —

* You say you were at Darley Court yester-
day ; am I to understand that you wish to go
there again to-day ? '

Tim looked up quickly, and was startled
at the hard expression on his father's face.

*Yes,' he stammered; 'I thought, I
meant '

' I think you will be in the way,' Mr.
Ebbesley continued, in the same measured
tones. ' Mr. and Mrs. Darley cannot want
you perpetually about the house.'

* But most likely I should not see any of
them,' Tim protested eagerly. * I am only
going to see Carol ; it was quite by accident
that he happened to be in the drawing-room
yesterday when I went.'

206 TIM CHAP.

* I should think he too could exist without
seeing you every day/ said his father sharply,
and then relapsing into stateliness, he added,
* I disapprove of such violent intimacies,
especially with people with whom I am not
intimate myself/

It flashed across Tim that if his intimacies
were to be regulated by his father's, their
number would indeed be limited. But he
swallowed this repartee and made one
despairing effort. * But he asked me to
come, and I said I would. I will not go
again if you don't like me to '

* I desire,' said Mr. Ebbesley, in a way
that put an end to all further discussion of
the subject, *that you will not go to the
Court this afternoon. That is enough.'

No word of why he wanted him to stay at
the manor-house, of regret that he should
wish to leave him on the first afternoon that
they were together after so long a separa-
tion ; he was too proud to show his own child
how much he needed his affection. Nothing

IX TIM 207

could be farther from Tim's imagination than
that his father should wish to keep him near
himself, or have any desire for his company.
Probably one indication of a human motive,
even a jealous or selfish one, that had its
root in love, would have brought them closer
together than anything had ever done yet,
but it was foreign to William Ebbesleys
nature to make such a sign ; he believed
himself to be actuated by entirely impersonal
considerations, or at least he wished to be-
lieve so, and was determined that his son
should, whether he did or not. So Tim's
flutterings of love and joy born of a summer s
morning were chilled back upon his heart,
and he sat in silence for the rest of the drive
sore and resentful, and escaped as soon as
they reached home to cry in his own room
alone with Bess. Carol, concluding that he
had not got back in time, visited the old mill
and the new cart-road by himself, whistling
as he went.

This was Mr. Ebbesley s first act of open

ao8 TIM CHAP. IX

hostility to the friendship between the lads,
and it was the beginning of much pain and
heart-burning to Tim, serving to widen the
distance between him and his father con-
siderably.

CHAPTER X

Oh let the solid ground

Not fail beneath my feet
Before my life has found

What some have found so sweet.

Tennyson's Maud.

Tim's career at Eton, after it became more
prosperous, offers nothing of much interest
to the general public, his relations with the
various good people who befriended him
having nothing to do with this story, which
is the history of his friendship for Carol, and
for no one else. We must not suppose,
however, that he had no other friends. He
was not of the very successful type, but he
made several very fast and true ones at this
period of his life. His tutor was very fond
of him, and more than one boy among his

P

2IO TIM CHAP.

schoolfellows asked him to visit him in the
holidays, which is the highest mark of esteem
that young gentlemen at that age can confer.
His father would have liked him to go, but
Tim would accept none of these invitations,
feeling how unlike the homes his friends de-
scribed to him — abodes of mothers and sisters
and ponies, and such good things — were to
the lonely old manor-house, and not caring
to invite their inspection of his own interior
in return. Still he felt the kindness of the
intention, and was as placidly contented as
he could be in a place where Carol had been,
and was not; for in spite of new ties and
interests, above and below all other friend-
ships or affections, his life-devotion held its
undiminished sway. He corresponded regu-
larly with Carol, according to his promise,
telling him all the gossip of the old place, so
interesting to those who have grown up in
that queer nursery, so inscrutably dull to all
besides. Many a detail of cricket or fives
news was mastered by the indefatigable Tim,

X TIM 211

—

though he took but a slender concern In such
matters on his own account, because he knew
they would be of interest to Carol, who on
his side declared our hero the best of corre-
spondents, and supplied him in return with
descriptions of Cambridge, or, if at Darley,
with constant bulletins of the health of Bess.

* Bess is renewing her youth,' he would
write ; * there is not a rabbit but goes in fear
for his life in all Stoke Ashton parish. Mrs.
Quitchett seems to have borrowed the other
old lady's receipt, not for rabbit-hunting, but
for looking young. In your absence, she
hails me with pleasure, as some one to whom
to talk of you.'

Or from Cambridge : * Do you want to
know what I am about } I walk a great
deal — to stretch my legs, w^hich you may
think do not require it — not to see the
country, which a fellow here, who never said
anything else good that I know of, said one
could do by putting on a pair of high-heeled
boots. I read a fairish amount, and play

212 TIM CHAP.

lots of tennis. Do you know what a bisque
is? or that half thirty is not the same as
fifteen ? In the evenings I have taken
violently to whist, and have once or twice
ventured on more exciting games, but don't
feel inclined to become a professional gambler
yet awhile. Next winter I think I shall keep
a horse. It isn't half a bad life, and there
are lots of awfully jolly fellows ; but I miss the
old school more than I can say, and am still
more than half inclined to blub when I think
of it. What shall I do next half without
Upper Club ? I don't believe playing for the
University will at all console me.'

Not very deep perhaps, but frank, boyish,
jolly letters, with a sensation as of fresh air
blowing through them. I have a pile of
them from which I could quote, all much in
the same style. Years afterwards they were
found, oh ! how carefully preserved, and tied
together in little bundles, with now only the
date of their receipt, now some tender com-
ment carefully affixed in Tim's youthful scrawl.

X TIM 213

The neatness of their arrangement had
something specially touching about it, tidi-
ness not being as a general rule by any
means a distinguishing characteristic of their
recipient.

As may readily be imagined, Tim's per-
sistence in his intimacy with Carol did not
tend to increase the comfort of his relations
with his father. Mr. Ebbesley was not a
man of many words ; but neither was it
difficult to see of what he disapproved, and
in the present case, without parading his
sentiments, he took no pains to conceal them.
During the autumn and winter that followed
the conversation recorded in the last chapter
he confined himself to little sneers and
sarcasms when Carol's name happened to
be mentioned in his presence, which Tim
took care should be as seldom as possible.
But the very carefulness of this avoidance
was in itself a cause of constraint. How
could the boy be at ease with his father
when all his most sacred feelings clustered

214 ^^-^ CHAP.

round an object of which he felt it better
never to speak to him ? To live in tacit
defiance of an unexpressed desire of one's
nearest relative does not conduce to a com-
fortable state of things.

It was in the first Easter holidays after
the August day when Fate, in the shape oi
Miss Markham Willis, had first crossed the
path of the two friends, that, Carol having
gone back to Cambridge before Tim's return
to Eton, the latter was one day diligently
scribbling his budget of home news in the
old manor library where he had lain asleep
the day his father's letter had come to Mrs.
Quitchett. (What the news was I am not
in a position to tell you, because, you see,
though I can refer to every line Carol wrote
to Tim, I have not the same advantage as
regards Tim's answers.) So immersed was
he in his writing, and in the mental effort of
omitting nothing Carol would like to be told,
that he did not hear the door open, nor
observe that any one had come in, till he

X TIM 215

was startled by a shadow falling on the
paper, and looking up, was somewhat alarmed
to find his father standing before him with
an expression which was anything rather
than amiable. Mr. Ebbesley had been
vexed about something, and was in a mood
for finding fault.

* Always scribbling,' he began ; * it's really
a sin not to be out this lovely day.'

He was not as a rule keenly susceptible
to the beauty of the weather, and his remark
therefore rather surprised his son.

* I was out all the morning,' he said.

* Where ? ' asked his father.

* Oh ! up above Beech Farm, in the Court
woods,' and Tim blushed a little as he spoke.
The fact was he had been making one of his
pilgrimages to the sacred spot where his
dinner with the squirrel had been interrupted
so many years before.

* In the Court woods,' repeated Mr.
Ebbesley crossly; 'really I'm ashamed of
you. Not content with dangling eternally

2l6 TIM CHAP.

about after that turnip-eating young embryo
squire the whole time he's here, you must
needs make yourself ridiculous by hanging
about his house and grounds like a senti-
mental girl when he's away.'

*You shan't call Carol names,' Tim
answered hotly, the faint blood in his cheeks
suddenly crimsoning them all over ; * he's the

best and There, I beg your pardon ; I

know I oughtn't to speak so to you, but I
couldn't help it. Say what you like about
me, but please don't sneer at him.'

*I am sure he would be delighted if he
knew what a champion he had in you ; don't
you see that the fellow doesn't want you }
You must bore him.'

* You've no right to say he doesn't want
me,' the boy flashed out again ; ' it's not true ;
and — and — I think he's the best judge of
whether he wants me or not.'

He was quivering all over, but his father
took no more notice of this outbreak than of
the former one.

X TIM 217

'IVe no doubt/ he went on, motioning
slightly towards the unfinished letter, 'that
it s to him youVe been writing all this trash.
It seems to me that you waste a good deal
of your time and my paper in supplying
pipe-lighters for unknown undergraduates/

* What is it you want me to do ? * asked
Tim hopelessly.

*You know quite well what my wishes
are : that I disapprove of violent intimacies
and long letter-writing. Why can't you be
friends with this very commonplace young
man as other people are friends, without
all this foolish fuss ? I don't want you to
waste all your time in writing sentimental
letters ; it is enervating ; and Heaven knows
you don't require that'

Tim stood white and uncertain, biting his
pen. *You want me to give Carol up,' he
said.

' That is so like you,' said Mr. Ebbesley ;
* you make such a tragedy of everything ;
who talks of giving up ? I only ask you for

2l8 TIM CHAP.

once to shoWa little common sense, and not
eternally to go on being a baby. Why can
you never be like other boys about anything,
I wonder?'

Tim wondered that too ; he also wondered
whether it would be worth while to try and
make his father understand that his letters
were not * sentimental,' as he called them.
For a minute he half felt inclined to ask him
to read the one on the table between them,
but he recollected all sorts of little simple
sayings and phrases that he would not for
the world submit to the sarcastic perusal of
his father's double eyeglass. He knew per-
fectly well that to continue on terms of cool
acquaintance with Carol, always guarding
every word and action for fear it was too
intimate, and not writing to him after pro-
mising to do so, was simply impossible ; but
he knew too that it was hopeless to make
his father see this as he saw it. No. What
he meant him to do was simply to give up
his friend, and he felt a dull feeling of anger

X TIM 219

and defiance at what he considered his dis-
ingenuous way of putting himself more or
less in the right by all this talk about
'common sense' and 'ordinary friendship/
He determined to call things by their right
names, and since his father did not like his
speaking of what he required of him as
'giving up Carol/ he would do it again.

* I am sorry I cannot obey you/ he said
slowly ; ' I think one should never give up a
friend unless for his own good/

' Oh ! in that case you think you should ? '
inquired his father, with an ironical appearance
of interest.

* Yes ; if one loved a person truly, one
would do anything for him ; even give him
up,' answered Tim quite simply.

Mr. Ebbesley fairly lost patience. * Don't
you know I could make you do this if I
chose ? ' he said almost fiercely ; perhaps the
words * if one loved a person truly ' had galled
his wound a little. But he relapsed into his
manner of carefully assumed indifference to

220 TIM CHAP.

add, ' I prefer, however, to leave you free to
find out that I am right by experience; I
have warned you, and you will not be warned ;
you know my wishes, but since you refuse to
be guided by them you shall please yourself.*
And he turned and left the room.

Tim stood with the unfinished letter in
his hand staring blankly after him. Why
was the only thing his father had ever asked
of him the only thing he could not do ? He
sank back into his chair and covered his face
with the letter. * Oh ! Carol,' he moaned,
* will you cast me off some day after this ? '

It would be hard to say whether father or
son suffered more keenly after this interview.
Tim, to be sure, had carried his point, but his
laurels were dear bought, and some victories,
as we know, are almost more disastrous than
defeats ; and then Mr. Ebbesley had the
pleasant certainty that he was right, which
was his consolation in many of the hard
knocks of life. He sincerely believed him-
self actuated by none but the very highest

X TIM 22 1

motives, and, moreover, considered that he
had displayed remarkable temper and modera-
tion under very trying circumstances. None
the less he had been defied and bested,
refused what he had almost stooped to ask,
and had flat disobedience and revolt opposed
to his expressed wishes. He had impru-
dently risked a trial of strength with Carol,
and been thrown. Not only had he less
hold on his son's affections, but actually less
power over his actions than this youth who
cared, he was convinced, so little for either
one or the other. He felt sore and injured,
and Tim supremely miserable, for some time ;
days during which they met and lived together
as usual, and tried with very poor success
to behave as though nothing had happened.
Tim continued to write to Carol, but he did
so henceforth in his room, and carried his
letters to the post himself, not from a desire
to conceal the fact from his father, but only
to avoid a recurrence of the painful scene in
the library ; and indeed it had no successors.

222 TIM CHAP.

Mr. Ebbesley had delivered himself of his
views, and thereafter the grave was not more
silent ; the subject of Carol was no more
mentioned between him and his son. And
Tim wrote no word of what had happened
to Carol. In the first place, he would have
died a thousand deaths sooner than say a
word that could distress him, and in the
second, he was far too proud to let even his
best friend into the secret of his disagreement
with his father. His letters flowed on in their
usual channel, and if they were a little
lacking in spirit, their recipient was by no
means an observant critic, and least of all
just then, being, as we shall see, much pre-
occupied with affairs of his own.

For, if Tim's letters were unchanged,
Carol's certainly were not. There crept into
them about this time a quite new and strange
tone, which did not pass unnoticed by his young
correspondent. 1 1 would be difficult to describe
exactly what it was ; but chance remarks scat-
tered up and down, together with a certain ab-

X TIM 223

stract and speculative turn of sentence quite
foreign to the young man's usual style, would
have indicated pretty clearly to any one but a
baby what was the matter with the writer.
* I feel/ he wrote, * that I am approaching a
turning-point in my life, which will make me
either very happy or very miserable ; and I
feel too that it is for life.* And elsewhere
he congratulated Tim on being * still of an
age when he was not likely to know what it
was to care more for one person than for all
the rest of the world,* at which his friend
smiled a little sadly, thinking that he did.
There are no notes on these letters in Tim's
handwriting, only the date ; probably they
puzzled the boy not a little.

That Carol was not quite himself seemed
pretty clear ; then it dawned upon him that
his state of mind indicated strong affection
for some one, and almost simultaneously he
arrived at the chilling conviction that that some
one was certainly not himself. He hardly
knew how to reply to these strange unfamiliar

224 TIM CHAP.

letters ; no doubt he thought he was expected
to make some sign of sympathy or interest,
but with the vague and fragmentary know-
ledge he possessed, he felt it impossible to
do so. In one way he was undoubtedly the
gainer by this mystery. At no previous time
had Carol ever written, not only so regularly,
but so often ; hardly a week passed without
his hearing from him, and usually at some
length. Still he felt uneasily that something
was wrong ; and when at the end of the
Cambridge May term his friend wrote that
he was coming down to Eton for a day or two,
he was glad not only with the joy of meeting
again, but almost more so at the opportunity
thus afforded to him of judging if his voice,
look, or manner were in keeping with the
strangeness of his epistolary style. And yet
he half feared to see in him the probable con-
firmation of his suspicions of something being
wrong.

When Carol did come, his behaviour was
even stranger than his writing. Instead of

X TIM 225

launching himself out on to the pavement
over the closed door of his fly the moment
it drew up in front of tutor^s, and sending a
flying glance up the house-front for any friends
who might be on the look-out, as was his
usual custom, followed by a tremendous shout
if his eye caught a familiar face, Tim, who
was watching from his window, was amazed
to see him sit meekly while the driver
descended from his box and opened the door,
and then inquire what he owed him, as though
he had just taken the drive from Slough
Station to Eton for the first time in his life.
And having paid the man, who had driven
him any timfe these seven years, and was too
much astonished even to overcharge him, he
walked into the house without once looking
up. Tim sat down and stared. What did it all
mean ? Nor had he less cause to wonder
when Carol came up to visit him ; he greeted
him with more than ordinary cordiality, and
then laughed a little, and then seemed to
forget his existence, becoming absorbed in

Q

226 TIM CHAP.

a minute inspection of everything in the
room, as if he had never seen it before.

* Holker isn't going to play in the next
match/ began Tim, producing the cricket
shop he had been carefully storing himself
with for Carol's arrival. * He missed three
catches on Tuesday, and as all his chance was
for his fielding, Jones has told Tuttiett he'll
try him. They say Holker's furious, and
swears if he don't get his eleven, it'll be
because Jones hates him, and will be sure to
spite him if he can.'

* Who's Jones ? ' inquired Carol dreamily.
Now Jones had been in his own eleven,

and they had played together in all the matches
only one short year before, not to mention
that they had been, as Tim knew, in close
correspondence ever since, the ex-captain
giving his successor the benefit of his greater
experience in all matters relating to the
government of the cricket world.

* Who's Jones ! ' echoed Tim in such
unfeigned surprise that Carol pulled himself

X TIM 227

together, laughed again, and said he wasn't
thinking.

They talked about the eleven for a little,
but it was obvious that the old boy's heart
was not as heretofore in the talk, and presently
he wandered to the window, and began piti-
lessly pulling to pieces one of Tim's best
fancy geraniums. Tim's flower-box was his
especial pride and glory ; he loved and tended
his flowers as no other boy in the house did,
and it is on record that on one occasion, when
he was watering them, and some of the water
had gone on the head of the big boy in the
room below, who happened to be talking out
of the window to a friend, that hero, having
come up breathing vengeance, had been so
struck with the beauty of the little garden that
he had sat down to talk about it, the wooden
spoon he had brought with him lying idly in
his lap. Ordinarily, Carol would not for the
world have injured one of these treasures, as
much from dislike of giving pain as from his
own feeling towards them, the result of Miss

228 TIM CHAP.

Kate*s early training. Tim could stand it
no longer.

'Carol/ he said, laying a timid hand on
the strong arm that was working havoc among
his pelargoniums, ' please forgive me for being
curious, but isn't there something up "i You
don't seem like yourself; and your letters
have been so rum lately. Is anything wrong ?
Can I do anything ? Won't you tell me
what's the matter ? *

Carol turned and looked at him ; then he
took his hand and said gently —

* By Jove, Tim, what a clever little soul
you are ! fancy your noticing like that. Shall
I tell you ? After all, I'd sooner tell you
than any one ; you've always been the best
and truest friend a fellow ever had, though
there's so much difference in our ages.'

Tim was gratified. * You've always been
so good to me, Carol,' he said, 'and I don't
care much for many people.'

* Can you keep a secret?' asked his friend;
* for it is a secret at present.'

X TIM 229

The tortures of the Inquisition, Tim pro-
tested, should not draw a word from him, when
Carol had bid him be silent ; and then out
it all came.

' Why shouldn't he tell him ? He might
think it odd of him to do so, but tell some one
he must, and the fact was, to cut a long story-
short, he was in love. He remembered Miss
Markham Willis — Violet ? ' (Yes, Tim remem-
bered her, and with her a whole train of old
apprehensions.) 'Well, she was the girl he
was in love with, and she was the loveliest girl
in all England, and the kindest to her little
brothers and sisters, and, in fact, the most peer-
less in all the relations of life ; and he knew
every one would say they were too young, but
he knew what love was, and he saw now that
he had loved her ever since they first met, and
he should never feel the same for any one
else, and Tim wasn't to say a word about it.'

Standing there opposite to him, holding
his hands, his honest blue eyes wet with
emotion, and his voice that Tim had heard

230 TIM CHAP.

always firm, and sometimes loud, trembling
as he made the confession of his young love,
there was something beautiful and touching
in the great strong boy ; he seemed to have
lost all his masterfulness, and to be quite meek
and uncertain of himself for the first time in
his life. And Tim, part frightened, and part
regretful, and part gratified at having been
selected as confidant on so important an
occasion, promised silence, — would have
promised anything, in fact, that Carol had
demanded, — and Carol, the floodgates of his
silence being burst at last, and the tide of his
feelings finding free vent, went on and said
much more.

Violet and her mother had been staying at
Cambridge for the May week with some Head
of a college who was their kinsman, and Carol
had been bound, in common politeness, to do
the honours of his University to his country
neighbours ; so that was how matters had
come to a crisis with him, and the conviction
had been borne in upon him in the intervals

X TIM 231

of boat-races, flower-shows, and dancing that
for him there was and would always be but
one woman in the world.

* And does she — does she — ? ' inquired
Tim discreetly.

'Ah ! there's where it is,* cried the other ;
* I think, I really think she likes me, but I
didn't dare speak ; it seemed as if it couldn't
be possible such a girl should really care for
me.'

* Not care for you ! ' exclaimed Tim almost
angrily, and then he stopped, much em-
barrassed.

* Oh, you are such a staunch little friend ! '
said Carol ; * you think much too well of me,
don't you know.'

But for all that he was cheered by his
friend's enthusiasm ; and the mere fact of
having unburthened himself to patient and
sympathetic ears sent him off more nearly
restored to his normal frame of mind, to dis-
cuss the new choices with Jones, quite like a
sane mortal.

232 TIM CHAP.

So Carol and Violet fell in love ; for it
was not many weeks after this that he found
the courage he had lacked at Cambridge, and
his modest * thinking she liked him' was
converted into triumphant certainty. They
were absurdly young of course. Violet was
only seventeen and Carol not yet twenty
when they first discovered they were made
for one another, and mutually imparted this
intelligence, as, I am told, is the manner of
young people. Of course, too, the old people,
as is their manner, scouted the notion, and
said, ' Nonsense ; boy and girl ; too young to
think of such things.' But the tendency of
boys and girls being to get their way in
matters of this sort, in spite of much more
severe elders than Mr. and Mrs. Markham
Willis, or the dear old Darleys, a compromise
was at last effected. In two years, when
Carol left the University, if he and Violet
were still of the same mind the thing should
be ; but in the meanwhile they were not to be
considered engaged, and not to correspond, —

X TIM 233

a very wise decision, as it seems to me, and
one that reflected credit on all concerned.
So these twp were to wait, as so many
others have done, and as they could well
afford to do at their age, having life be-
fore them, and youth, and good looks, and
high spirits to cheer them through their
waiting.

Tim was installed as prime confidant, and
to him Carol told or wrote all his hopes and
fears. When the compromise was extracted
from the old people, he came radiant to the
manor-house, and finding Tim alone in the
garden, poured out all his golden dream to
him.

*Two years were quite a short time to
wait ; many people had to wait half their lives.
He would serve for Violet as long as Jacob
had for Rachel, if need were ; and wasn't it
grand of her to promise to wait for him ?
though of course he could not accept such
a promise, and had quite refused to bind
her.*

234 TIM CHAP.

Tim listened to it all, now and then
squeezing his friends hand in token of
sympathy and attention ; luckily he was not
expected to say much, for he would have been
rather at a loss what to say. His mind was
travelling one year back to the day when he
had gone up to the Court and found Violet
installed in the drawing-room there ; all the
thoughts so vague and unintelligible to him
then had taken form and substance ; now he
understood what the shadow was that had
fallen across his path that day ; that thing he
had dimly guessed at had come upon him, and
it was to him that Carol looked for rejoicing
in his joy. Of course he did rejoice, and felt
delighted that this new experience of his idol
seemed only to bring them nearer together
instead of separating them ; but was it really
so? It is true, he saw more of him than he
had ever done before, and when he went away
again, heard from him oftener ; but the talks
and the letters were full of Violet, and of
Violet only ; she was the cause of it all. If

X TIM 235

Carol desired his society, it was that to him
better than any one he could discourse of her
perfections ; if he wrote nearly every day, it
was that he was' not allowed to write to her,
and the next best thing was writing about her.
Tim was useful only as the safety-valve
which allowed him to let off some of the
enthusiasm with which he was overflowing.
He would have liked to cry the name of his
beloved to all the winds ; failing that, it was
a comfort to hold forth on the subject either
with tongue or pen. And Tim saw all this
quite plainly, and somehow was not as grate-
ful at being selected for the part he was
playing as he felt he should be. ' Would he
like it after all,' he asked himself, * since this
thing was to be ' (and he bowed before the
inevitable), *had Carol selected any one else to
whom to lay open his heart V He took himself
to task for not feeling happier in his friend s
happiness. This was not the devotion he had
vowed to him in his own heart, this selfish-
ness that put himself before the object of his

236 TIM CHAP. X

affection, which refused to dance at the dear
one's piping. Somehow he felt it would be
easier to lament at his mourning ; and for
this too he had by and by the opportunity,
as we shall see.

k

CHAPTER XI

Love is strong as death.
Jealousy is cruel as the grave.

Solomoris Song,

* He wants great care and attention ; there is
no use denying it. He is not the sort of lad
with whom you can afford to run risks. He
has no stamina, none; no constitution. I
don't say he is ill. God grant he may not
be, for he hasn't the strength to throw
things off as some boys do.'

The speaker was the old Stoke Ashton
doctor, and the subject of his remarks was
Tim. It was a hard winter, and the boy
was not very well. He did not outgrow
his childish delicacy, though it would be
hard to say quite what was the matter

238 TIM CHAP.

with him. Mrs. Quitchett used to trot
off to her old friend the doctor and have
long talks with him in his surgery, from
which she would come away blowing her
nose and very red about the eyelids. She
got him to drop in as if by accident every
now and then at the manor-house when
Tim was at home, and so accustomed was
the boy to these half friendly, half pro-
fessional visits of his earliest friend that she
thought they awoke no suspicions in his
breast. It was after one of these unofficial
inspections that the old doctor delivered
himself of the above remark.

* That's what you always said,' replied
Mrs. Quitchett ; * I must say you have always
said the same ; but he seems somehow
different this winter from what IVe ever
seen him before.'

* Do you think,' asked the doctor, 'that he
can have anything on his mind ? Anything
like fretting would be the worst thing in
the world for him. I suppose,' he added

XI TIM 239

tentatively, *he can't have got into any
trouble of any kind ?'

* Trouble!' echoed Mrs. Quitchett scorn-
fully; *he's the best -behaved and steadiest
boy in the kingdom of Britain. He in any
trouble ; why, a saint from heaven would be
more likely ever to have a thought that
wasn't out of the Bible than him. As to his
having anything on his mind, what should
he have, poor lamb, I should like to know ?'

The doctor said if she didn't know of any-
thing, he certainly couldn't be expected to ;
that he had only thrown out the suggestion
for what it was worth. Boys would be boys,
and the best of them got into scrapes
sometimes, and therewith took himself off.

But his nurse was wrong in supposing
that the doctor s frequent droppings-in were
lost upon Tim. I don't know otherwise
what train of thought it could have been
which led him one day to ask his father
whether his grandmother hadn't died rather
suddenly. The question surprised Mr.

240 TIM CHAP.

Ebbesley, who wondered how the boy knew
anything about his grandparents.

* Yes/ he said, 'she died very suddenly/

* Had she heart disease ? '

* No. I don't think she had anything of
that sort, but she had never been very
strong; it was more a general lowness of
tone, something like breaking up, and yet
she was not an old woman. I think being
in that weak state she must have caught
something, but I remember very little about
it. I was quite a child at the time.'

'Then she was quite young when she
died ? '

* Oh yes, not thirty, I think ; all my
mother s family were delicate ; they were
not long-lived people.' And Mr. Ebbesley
rather hastily changed the conversation.
This curiosity as to illness and death seemed
to him morbid and unhealthy, and perhaps
he feared the boy might go on by a natural
transition to ask about his own mother.

He had been even less at home than

XI TIM 241

usual that winter, but he too had noticed in
his visits to the manor-house that his son
was not looking well, and this conversation,
chiming in with certain dark hints of Mrs.
Quitchett's, made him feel it a duty to have
him thoroughly examined before sending
him back to school. The Granthurst doctor
was sent for in addition to our old friend,
and the two together undressed Tim, and
sounded him, and thumped him, and did all
the inscrutable things doctors do. * No,*
they said, * there was no organic trouble.
The lungs were not affected; the action of
the heart was weak, but not in any way
diseased ; the general tone was low ; the
circulation bad. He must not overtire him-
self, must be made to dress warm, must be
well fed,' etc. etc. etc. So Tim went back
to Eton with many injunctions from Mrs.
Quitchett, who was more than usually fussy
and particular in her directions to him, to be
very careful not to get tired or to sit in damp
clothes, and to be sure to put something

R

242 TIM CHAP.

round his neck and over his mouth if he had
to go out at night.

Tim was sixteen that March. How our
story runs away with us, carrying us over years
in which he changed much in many ways, but
remained always unchanged on the side on
which my business is to show him. He had
been growing a good deal of late, yet he was
not tall for his age either, and his slight,
graceful figure made him look younger than
he really was. His hands too were small —
delicate slender hands with long fingers, such
as do not often belong to boys who are quite
strong. Tommy Weston, who had a very
respectable-sized fist, used to chaff him about
them, and solemnly invent receipts for the
widening of them, which Tim took in very
good part, having a great regard for Tommy,
and not caring a brass farthing about his
hands. It was bitter cold at Eton that fives
half, and Tim, despite his warm clothes, was
chilly, and had to stay out several times.

But Easter came at last, mild, sweet, and

i^

XI TIM 243

smiling, as so often happens after a cold
winter. Easter was late that year, and the
cuckoo was calling from tree to tree and
wildflowers blowing in field and hedgerow
when Tim came home again. He was just
a little whiter, a little thinner, nothing very
noticeable, yet Mrs. Quitchett noticed it, and
the doctor s words spoken so many years
before came back to her kind old mind :

* Things will affect him more than other
people all his life ; what would be nothing to
an ordinary person might kill him.* She
remembered too his question as to whether
the boy could have anything on his mind.

* Do you feel ill, my dearie V she asked
him.
. ' Oh no, thanks, nurse dear,* he answered.

* You all make such a fuss over me that you
will end by making me think there is some-
thing really the matter.'

*Tim, my lamb,* asked the old woman
earnestly, *you won't mind if I ask you a
question ? — remember it's your old nurse,

244 TIM CHAP.

who loves you better than any one else, and
don't be angry, — you haven't, not by your
own fault I know, but out of kindness or
anything, you haven't got into any trouble at
school, have you ?'

*Why, what put that into your head?'
asked Tim, and being tickled with the idea,
he laughed so heartily that Mrs. Quitchetl
was reassured on that head.

Still she persisted. * There isn't anything,
then, that's troubling you, is there, dear, —
nothing on your mind, as you may say } '

This time Tim did not laugh ; he looked
at her with some surprise, but he only said,
*You dear silly old goose, what should I
have on my mind ? ' and kissed her, and so
the matter dropped.

But Mrs. Quitchett and the doctor were
not so far wrong after all ; say what he
would, Tim's illness was partly mental.
The cloud of his fathers displeasure, un-
expressed yet always present, shadowed
his whole life. Thus his greatest joy,

XI TIM 245

his friendship with Carol, came to involve
his greatest grief, his alienation from the only-
parent he had ever known ; and the constant
conflict of emotions told on the boy's sensitive
nature, and reacting on his bodily health,
helped to weaken his already too weak con-
stitution. And Carol, meaning only to be
kind, contrived, like most well-meaning
people, to make matters worse by coming
to see him nearly every day. He could talk
unrestrainedly to him about Violet, as he
could to no one else ; besides, he too had
noticed the growing pallor and creeping
lassitude of Tim, and being really and
sincerely fond of his friend, began to grow
anxious about him. He rarely encountered
Mr. Ebbesley, and certainly never guessed
at his objecting to his intimacy with his son.
When they met, the older man was always
studiously polite to the younger ; if he was
rather cold too, it was not very noticeable,
Mr. Ebbesley's manner to the general public
not being chiefly remarkable for warmth or

246 TIM CHAP.

geniality. Tim, however, lived on thorns ;
he had made his choice and would stick to it,
but he was particularly anxious to avoid doing
anything that could look like an act of open
defiance, and all this perpetual flourishing of
Carol about the place might very easily, in
his father's eyes, be made to bear such an
interpretation. Every time the two met he
underwent real suffering, such as no one
can understand who has not experienced
something like it. Mrs. Quitchett, noting
the shade that crossed her master s face, and
the quick flush and drooping of the eyelids
with which Tim mentioned Carol's name
every time circumstances obliged him to do
so in his father's presence, or rather, perhaps,
guided by that divine intuition which lends
a sort of second sight to those who love
much, arrived at some glimmering suspicion
of the state of affairs. The doctor's sugges-
tion of Tim's having some secret cause of
worry had set her mind all agog to discover
and if possible remove it ; and Mr. Ebbesley's

XI TIM 247

Strange behaviour on the day of his return
from India recurred suddenly to her recollec-
tion, and seemed to supply the clue to all
this mystery which her cross-questioning had
failed to extract from Tim. Now as then
her love made her bold, and she determined
to attack her master on the subject the next
time he came to Stoke Ashton. She had
carried her point then, and might again ; the
only thing that troubled her resolution was
an embarrassing doubt of what the point
precisely was that she desired to carry.
Then she had a definite thing to try for ;
she wished to extract permission for Carol to
come to the manor-house, and had succeeded
in doing so. But here was Carol coming
there every day, more than he had ever
done before. What she was to ask, she
knew not ; but she felt, as she would have .
expressed it, 'that she would be guided to
speak ' when the time came, and she resolved
to make the attempt for her boy's sake.

* If you please, sir, can I speak to you a

248 TIM CHAP.

minute ? ' she asked, planting herself in the
lion's path on the first opportunity that pre-
sented Itself. She felt that what she was
going to say bordered on impertinence, and
her heart quaked, though her face was calm.

* Certainly, nurse,' answered Mr. Ebbesley
with grave affability ; * is it about the books ?
Do you want some money } '

* Not at present, thank you, sir ; the fact
is, I want to speak to you about your son.'

Mr. Ebbesley looked up quickly, but said
nothing.

* Do you think that boy looks well ? '
inquired Mrs. Quitchett impressively.

* He certainly does not look as well as I
should like to see him,' admitted the other
rather unwillingly, *but he never has done
that. As to his being ill, I can't find out
that there is anything the matter with him ;
he has been very thoroughly examined by
the doctors. Is there anything else you can
suggest ? '

* Shall I tell you what the doctor asked

XI TIM 249

me ? ' asked the nurse, still with the air of
Nemesis.

* Certainly ; let me hear it, though I don't
suppose he is likely to have said anything
different to you from what he did to me/

* He asked me,' continued the old lady, * if
the boy had anything on his mind, if he was
worried about anything.'

Mr. Ebbesley started. The conversation
was taking a turn he by no means ex-
pected.

*What in the world should a child like
that have to be worried about ? ' he asked
rather testily.

Mrs. Quitchett did not flinch.

*If you'll excuse the liberty I'm taking,'
she said, * I think I can tell you, sir. I may
be wrong, for I am only an ignorant old
woman ; but when anything ails that boy
I'm just bound to try and find it out; and I
think I have.'

* For Heaven's sake say out what you
mean ! ' exclaimed Mr. Ebbesley crossly ; * if

250 TIM CHAP.

there's anything you want me to do, tell me
what it is/

* That boy's fretting, I can see plainly ;
and It's something to do with you and young
Mr. Darley, though I don't know what'

Mr. Ebbesley jumped out of his chair
with a smothered execration, and began to
walk about the room.

* Has my son been complaining of me to
you ? ' he asked presently.

Mrs. Quitchett smiled with fine scorn, not
untouched by pity, for the poor man who
understood his own child so little.

* Not he,' she answered laconically ; * I
haven't so much as got one word out of him
about it, though I've tried ; but he frets — any
one may see that. And I'm very much mis-
taken if that's not what it's about.'

* What do you wish me to do } ' asked
Mr. Ebbesley, sitting down again and putting
on his grand manner. * Does not my son

have perfect liberty to see his friend as much
as he wishes } Do I interfere in any way } '

XI TIM 2SI

* I can't say as you do, sir,' answered Mrs.
Quitchett thoughtfully, 'and that's just what
puzzles me. The young man he come and
go as he likes, but your son's not at ease
about it ; and I notice that he never mentions
his friend to you if he can possibly help it.
You know you took a dislike to that boy
from the first day you came home and found
him here; and whether you've ever said so
to your son or not, he know it, and he
fret.'

When Mrs. Quitchett felt strongly she
had a way of clipping the final s from the
third person singular of her verbs, which lent
a curious impressiveness to her remarks.
There was something so sternly judicial in
the old lady's attitude and manner that Mr.
Ebbesley felt called upon to make a defence
of himself. It seemed as though certain un-
comfortable doubts as to his own conduct,
which had begun to trouble him of late, had
suddenly taken voice and shape and stood up
to confront him ; and the necessity of justifi-

2S2 TIM CHAP.

cation that he felt addressed itself rather to
them than to his visible interlocutor.

* It IS true/ he said after a while, *that I
have disapproved of Tim's foolish infatuation
for his young neighbour, and I have on one
occasion spoken to him about it. He has an
unhappy trick of exaggerating trifles, and in
the present case has chosen to make a mount-
ain out of a molehill, as usual. I told him that
I thought he might with advantage to himself
be less like a silly schoolgirl in his friendship
and more like a man, and that I thought it
bad for him mentally and physically to sit
cramped up all day writing long sentimental
letters. He chose to talk a great deal of
nonsense about not ** giving up his friend,"
and all that kind of thing; and now he is
playing at being the persecuted victim, who
bears ill-usage heroically for his friend s sake.
It is all on a par with the rest. He likes to
fancy himself the hero of a story. It's all
damn nonsense,' he concluded suddenly, with
a rapid drop into irritability.

XI TIM 253

Mrs. Quitchett was routed ; she could say
no more. She felt that she had failed ; though
in other respects she hardly understood Mr.
Ebbesley's explanation, that point at least was
quite clear to her, and she began to make
a sort of apology, * if she had presumed.'

Her antagonist, feeling pleased with his
own exposition of the matter, graciously told
her not to distress herself, and added, * I am
quite right, you may be sure, and, I need
not say, am acting solely for what I consider
to be the boy's own good. I have no per-
sonal dislike to young Darley ; quite the
reverse. I am sure I am right, and some
day or other, when he has come to his
senses, Tim will be the first to acknow-
ledge it.'

* If he don't die in finding it out,' muttered
Mrs. Quitchett as she left the room ; but Mr.
Ebbesley apparently did not catch what she
said.

Now Mr. Ebbesley was not alone in
objecting to the intimacy between the lads.

2S4 TIM CHAP.

Miss Violet Markham Willis had on several
occasions, when she had expressed her
sovereign will and pleasure that Carol should
do this or that, been met by the answer that
he must go and see Tim, who, he was sure,
was not well, and who must be dreadfully
lonely and blue all by himself in that old
frog- hole of a manor-house. Carol in so
doing was performing an act of highest
self-abnegation, and never doubted that
Violet must know it to be such, and approve
of his motive. And she, with the odd per-
versity of young ladies in love, never hinted
that she did nothing of the kind. But it is
one thing voluntarily to sacrifice oneself to a
sense of duty, and quite another to be sacri-
ficed, without one's consent, to some one
else's sense of duty. She had never shot
Tim with a gun, and afterwards amused his
slow convalescence, or delivered him from
stoning, or loftily received his admiring
devotion for eight years ; consequently it was
not to be expected that she should in any

XI TIM 25 s

way share Carol's feeling about him ; and to
her he seemed only a most uninteresting and
unnecessary little person, who was constantly
interfering between her and her legitimate
property. As a consequence of all which,
Carols amiability struck her as overdone,
and she was decidedly inclined to dislike the
unhappy object of it.

Now it happened at this time that Mrs.
Markham Willis gave her hard-worked
governess a holiday, the first for two years,
and Violet undertook to rule the schoolroom
in her absence. The little Markham Willises
were what is called lively, high-spirited chil-
dren, and finding the yoke off their necks, they
became pretty nearly unmanageable, and gave
their elder sister a great deal of trouble. Violet
was a very good girl in her way, but by no
means a saint ; she liked to enjoy herself, and
to have her own way, and to be a good deal
petted and flattered, and told how nice and
how pretty she was ; and this severe and
unusual strain on her patience proved a little

256 TIM CHAP.

too much for her temper. She had under-
taken this, being really anxious to be of use
to her mother, and from the best of motives,
and she was determined to go through with
it and not complain, but she was having a
rough time of it ; and, moreover, it galled
her pride to have to acknowledge that she
could not keep the order that seemed to
result as though by magic from the mere
presence of the meek, colourless Frauliein,
whom in her heart she had always rather
looked down upon. She felt sick and cross
and bitter, and as some one else always has to
suffer when any one is in that frame of mind,
poor Carol came in for trouble in the present
instance as being the handiest and likeliest
person on whom to vent her displeasure.

It is far oftener for some one else s faults
than for our own that we receive chastise-
ment at the hands of our friends and relatives,
and for the most part we do not even know
whose sins it is that we are bearing vicari-
ously. Maggie Tulliver had an old wooden

XI TIM 257

doll that she ground and beat when impo-
tently hating her fellow-creatures, and Violet
pitched upon her lover to act this uncom-
fortable part. Perhaps their true love had
run a little too smooth if anything, and with
human unreasonableness, she may have felt
that a little breeze in that direction might
clear the air and infuse the proper amount of
necessary excitement into the long wooing,
which threatened to become a trifle prosaic.
Anyhow it is certain that Carol was made to
suffer. And when anything ailed Carol, Tim,
you may be sure, was not long in finding it
out. He noticed that his friend came in and
sat down wearily, asking how he was in a
sort of perfunctory manner, as one whose
mind was elsewhere. (Ordinarily Carol's
advent was made known by shouts or sing-
ing long before he entered the house.) He
walked about aimlessly and stared out of
window, much as he had done on that
memorable day at Eton. Tim forbore to
press for confidences until Carol felt inclined

s

258 TIM CHAP.

to make them ; indeed, he almost hoped he
would make none ; he felt trouble in the air
by a sort of instinct, and shrank from fresh
burthens, with sheer physical weakness.
Carol could talk of nothing, settle to nothing,
and soon went away ; he was manifestly
distressed about something. Again, the next
day, he was even more dejected, and on the
third he broke silence.

* I Ve been poor company these last few
days,' he said with a sudden effort, * but IVe
been thinking of my own affairs, Tm afraid,
and not of you at all. The fact is Tm
infernally miserable, and you must try not to
mind me.'

*You miserable! Oh, Carol, why didn't
you say so sooner ? Can I do anything for
you ? Do tell me what's the matter.'

* There ! I knew I should make you
wretched ; I'm a selfish brute to come and
make you unhappy too ; but I can't help it.
I 've tried to say nothing about it.'

*And do you suppose,' asked Tim re-

I

XI TIM 259

proachfully, *that I haven't seen that some-
thing was wrong ? How blind you must think
me ; or else that I care very little about you,
not to have noticed.'

* I suppose I ought to have stayed away/
said poor Carol dejectedly. * Tm not fit com-
pany for a dog when Tm out o' spirits, but I
try to keep cheery at home for the sake of
the dear old people ; and it's such a comfort
to give up every now and then, and look as
gloomy as one feels. Tm a bad hand at pre-
tending; indeed, Tve never had to before.'

' You need not trouble to with me^ at least,'
said Tim, smiling faintly ; * I know you far
too well not to see through it in a minute.
But all this time you haven't told me what's
the matter.'

Carol blushed hotly. 'Violet ' he

stammered, and then stopped abruptly.

* Oh, Carol ! ' Tim exclaimed, aghast,

' you don't mean to say she ' The

thought was too awful to be put into words,
but Carol answered it.

26o TIM CHAP.

*No; not exactly,* he admitted moodily;
*not in so many words, but thafs what it's
coming to, I can see.'

And then he went on to tell how Violet s
manner had changed to him of late. She
was no longer as she once was, but more as
though he had offended her somehow, and
yet he could think of nothing he had done.
No, clearly it was not his fault ; she had got
tired of him, that was all, and meant to throw
him over ; it was very natural, and he had
been a fool to expect anything else. She
was a great deal too good for him, and he
couldn't blame her. Had not he himself
refused to bind her ? She had been too
young to know her own mind, and had seen
so few people ; he supposed she'd seen some
other fellow she liked better — and the poor
boy ground his teeth at the bare thought.
She had a perfect right to do as she liked,
and it was good of her to let him down easy ;
anyway he must try and take it like a man,
and not make a fool of himself.

XI TIM 261

On another occasion he broke down
altogether. 'Violet/ he said, 'had shown
her coldness towards him in the most
marked way ; he had seen her coming down
the road alone, and had hurried forward,
determined at all risks to ask what had
changed her towards him, — any certainty,
even the worst, would be better than this
suspense. But when she saw him, she had
turned down a lane obviously to avoid him,
and he had not had the heart to follow her.'
The poor fellow looked almost as pale as
Tim, and actually burst out crying when he
came to this point in his narrative. It was
the first time in all their long intercourse
that Tim had ever seen Carol cry, and the
act seemed so utterly foreign to his hero,
and out of keeping in every way, that it
filled him with dismay, and took from him
all power of comfort or reasoning.

'Oh, Carol! oh, dear dear Carol! please
don't,' was all he could say ; the sight of tears
in those eyes was more than he could stand.

262 TJM CHAP.

He could only accompany him home,
giving him the help of his sympathetic
silence, and wisely refraining from all
attempts at speech.

'Thanks, dear old boy,' Carol said as he
wrung his hand at parting ; * youVe done me
lots of good ' ; and Tim went away alone for
a little stroll through the woods to ponder
on all this network of trouble. Things too
deep for his comprehension seemed to be
closing in upon him. That he should be
unhappy had come to appear to him more
or less in the natural order of things ; but
Carol !

What manner of creature then was this
girl who could so sway the first of men }
To what order of beings did she belong,
who might have Carol for her very own,
and exist in perpetual happiness with him,
in perfect interchange of affection, no one
blaming or thwarting her; who yet treated
him like this and made him wretched ?
Many possibilities had suggested themselves

« TIM 263

to Tim, but never this one. He was con-
fused ; his head ached with thinking. The
cheerful sights and sounds of the wood,
now beginning to deck itself with its first
green, the bustle of the birds at their early
nest -building, the delicate yellow of the
primroses gemming the ground all about his
feet, which at another time would have been
lovingly noted by him, had to-day no mes-
sage of comfort for the puzzled boy, as he
vainly tried to find the ends of these tangled
threads of life, and love, sorrow, and anger.

Presently his path led him out of the
wood into a little parklike strip of meadow-
land, skirting the lane that would take him
home. The boundary hedge was set on a
bank sloping gently this way and that, but
the meadow was on a higher level than the
lane. It was a balmy soft afternoon, unusu-
ally mild for the time of year, and Tim was
rather tired with his walk ; the thought just
crossed his mind, how much more easily
tired he seemed to be now than formerly, as

264 TIM CHAP.

he sat down on the soft moss and leaned his
head against the trunk of a large tree that
grew on the summit of the bank, jutting out
from the hedge on either side. How long
he sat there he did not know ; he must have
fallen into a kind of unconsciousness, for he
did not think he was asleep.

He was roused at length by a sound of
voices, and peeping through the hedge he
could discern the tops of two feminine hats,
whose wearers had evidently seated them-
selves on the lane side of the bank to rest,
directly below where he was. He was rising
to pass on, when his attention was attracted
by the mention of his own name and that of
Carol, in a voice that made him thrill ; it
was Violet Markham Willis who was speak-
ing. He could not go on now ; his legs
refused their office, and he sank down again
in the same place. With instinctive repulsion
from the meanness of eavesdropping, he
tried to call out to warn her that he was
there but no sound came from his lips. He

XI TIM 265

was as though paralysed, yet with all his
senses morbidly acute ; and then his whole
being seemed to resolve itself into an
imperious necessity not to lose a word of
this conversation.

Violet spoke in a high aggrieved tone,
not difficult to catch in the stillness of the
spring evening. Mrs. Markham Willis had
made some remark on her daughter s altered
looks and manner of late, and Violet, con-
cealing the schoolroom troubles, had laid
the blame on Carol, whereupon her mother
had said a word of expostulation on that
head too.

' Oh, Carol ! ' the girl was saying, when
her voice first struck Tim's ear. ' Carol
doesn't care two straws about me ; he may
have fancied himself in love with me at first,
but it s easy to see he's tired of me. Would
he be perpetually running after that nasty
little Ebbesley friend of his, if he were really
fond of me ? he's always with him, far more
than he is with me, I'm sure.*

266 TIM CHAP.

* Dearest Violet/ her mother answered,
* are you not a little unreasonable ? I can't
see, Fm sure, what Carol finds so attractive
in that boy, though I fancy it is his kind-
ness. The poor fellow is delicate, and very
fond of him ; and after all, he has a right to
choose his own friends.'

* I should be the last to wish to deny it to
him,' Violet retorted defiantly ; ' he can make
a free choice ; if he prefers ** Tim," as he calls
him, to me, let him have his choice by all
means/ And rather inconsistently with her
brave words, she began to cry. She was
wrought up and nervous, anxious to make
something appear like a tangible grievance.

*0h, my darling, consider,' cried Mrs.
Markham Willis ; * are you not trifling with
your own happiness "i I am sure Carol loves
you very much, poor fellow ; and you know
it too, if it were not for this foolish misunder-
standing. Tell me, dear, what makes you
think he cares so much for this friend ? '

'What makes me think!' echoed Violet,

XI TIM 267

sobbing. ' Doesn't he always say he must
go to him, if I suggest our doing anything
together ? Isn't he for ever talking about
him, and making him an excuse to get away
from me ? If he wants me to play second
fiddle to that ridiculous boy, he's just mis-
taken ; I'll never marry a man with an
intimate friend. Never.'

'Dear dear Violet! don't talk so loud;
some one is coming. Oh ! don't cry, darling ;
do dry your eyes. I wouldn't have any one
see you crying here in the public lane for
worlds. Have some self-respect, for my
sake if not for your own. Oh ! dear, come
quick ; your eyes are quite red, and you
have no veil ; and some one really is
coming.'

So this was the conclusion, the ex-
planation of the whole matter. It was he,
Tim, that was the bar to the happiness of
the one being he loved more than all the
world. There was an irony in it all that
made it hard, very hard. There are moments

268 TIM CHAP.

in which thought gallops with us, and Tim's
resolve was taken so quickly that he wondered
at himself. Not for an instant did he waver,
nor rejoice that if he would, he could keep
his friend to himself. Even the thought
that Carol cared enough for him to make
the girl to whom he was virtually engaged
suppose that she held only a secondary place
in his affections, could not shake his purpose.
His duties all pointed one way — that to his
father and that to his friend brought into
sudden harmony in a way he had little
looked for. Yes, duties pointed one way,
but feelings tugged the other; and though
resolved to follow duty, he had a hard
struggle to quiet the turmoil within him.
He walked home very slowly, strengthening
himself in his purpose. * Nothing ever shall,'
Carol had said ; * at least it will be your fault
if it does.* How well he remembered the
words, and his own scorn of such an impos-
sibility. Now they mocked his wretched-
ness, and with them recurred another sentence

XI TIM 269

from quite a different conversation. His
own words to his father seemed to rise in
judgment against him, and he did not try
to appeal from them. * If one loved a person
truly, one would do anything for him, even
give him up.' He was determined that he
would never repay all Carols kindness by
ruining his life for him. He did not pause
to think of what he was doing to his own ;
that was a side of the question on which he
found it safer not to dwell at present.

When he reached home he went straight
to the room where he knew he should find
his father. Going up to him, he said, ' Do
you remember our talk about Carol Darley,
just a year ago ?* He spoke low and quickly,
holding his hat in one hand and supporting
himself at the table with the other.

Mr. Ebbesley could not help a hasty
questioning look ; he was taken by surprise ;
but he answered coldly, ' Perfectly ; I am
not likely to forget. You were good enough
on that occasion to inform me that you pre-

270 TIM CHAP. XI

ferred that young gentleman to me, and that
you intended deliberately to disobey my
express desires, which I must say you have
done most thoroughly.*

* It was the first time I ever disobeyed
you, and you don't know what it cost me;
but that is not the point. Since then I have
thought it over; I am come to say that I
will do as you wish.'

Mr. Ebbesley was more surprised than
ever, but he would have died rather than
show it. He only said, * I am glad to hear
it ; I don't ask what has brought you to your
senses at last ; I suppose you have had a
quarrel. '

But Tim did not answer; his heart was
too full. He was wrought to the utmost
pitch of endurance of which he was capable.
He could not have said another word to
save his soul. He hurried almost stumbling
from the room ; the necessity to be alone
was strong upon him.

CHAPTER XII

But sworn I have ; and never must
Your banished servant trouble you ;
For if I do, you may mistrust
The vow I made to love you, too.

Herrick.

The next time Carol came to the manor-
house Tim was not to be found ; he had run
and hidden himself in the garden when he
saw him coming. Crouching among the
bushes, he could hear the dearly-loved voice
calling him by the familiar nickname, and
his courage nearly gave out ; he pressed his
hands over his mouth as though he would
choke back the answering cry that rose
naturally to his lips.

' Tim, Tim ! ' shouted Carol, * where are
you ? '

272 TIM CHAP.

Either there was, or Tim fancied there was,
a tone of disappointment in the voice. Carol
was in trouble ; Carol had need of him, and he
must hear him call and let him go unsatisfied
away. It was his free act too ; no one had
compelled him to it. But it was for Carol's own
sake ; and in that thought alone he was strong.

For weeks afterwards, in the silence of the
night, whenever he lay awake (and he lay
awake a good deal in those nights), he heard
that voice calling to him, *Tim, Tim!' in
saddest accents of one that sought something
on which he had counted, and found it not.
He felt that his one chance lay in avoiding
a meeting with Carol, and the constant watch
and care to do so told on him fearfully,
making him nervous and excitable. He
dreaded to stay at home, lest his friend
should come and see him, and almost more
to go out, lest he should come upon him
unawares. He could settle to nothing ; every
step on the path, every voice, every opening
door, made him start and tremble, and when

XII TIM 273

he could stand it no longer, and seized his
hat to rush out no matter where, he would
be taken with such an agony of apprehension
before he had gone a hundred yards, that
he had scarcely strength to get back to the
house. No one will ever know what he
suffered in those few days ; and when his
father, taking pity on his altered looks,
offered to take him to the seaside till it
should be time for him to return to Eton, he
eagerly accepted. Not a word was spoken
between them about Carol ; the subject
was avoided by tacit consent. William
Ebbesley wondered not a little what had
influenced his son to act as he had done, but
he would not ask. He had long given up
trying to understand the boy, who was as
full of incomprehensible moods as a woman.
He concluded that deference to his wishes
had not had a large share in determining
him, but there he did Tim injustice. Any-
way his point was gained, and he could
afford to be magnanimous ; so the two went

T

274 TIM CHAP.

off to the sea together for the remaining
week or ten days of Tim's holidays.

Poor Carol failed utterly at first to under-
stand what had happened Tim was never
to be found when he went to the manor-house,
never came to the Court. Then one day
the answer to his inquiry was that Mr.
Ebbesley and Tim were gone away to the
seaside together. Tim was * poorly/ the
little maid who trembled under Mrs. Quit-
chett told him, * needed change of air, the
doctor had said.*

* And had he left no message for him .'^ '
Carol asked ; * was she sure there was none "i *

Yes ; the little maid thought she was sure
there was none. Mrs. Quitchett was out, but
she would ask her when she came in.

Carol went away sad at heart. Tim would
write, he told himself, — was sure to write. He
would not yet believe that Tim could mean
anything. He was not well ; he had had to
go away suddenly ; he would be sure to write
in a day or two. So he waited the day or two,

i

XII TIM 275

but Still Tim made no sign. Then Carol got
the address from Mrs. Quitchett, and wrote
himself, but no answer came back. He began
to grow anxious after that ; to imagine all sorts
of possibilities ; he had not known how fond
he was of his friend. He determined to go
again to the manor-house, and ask if the
accounts of Tim were good.

* Yes ' ; Mrs. Quitchett * thanked him ; she
had had a letter from him that morning, and
he said he was better. He liked the sea,
and thought it was doing him good.'

'And was there any — any message or
anything "i in short, anything about me in the
letter ? ' Carol asked with a little proud
hesitation.

No, there was nothing ; Mrs. Quitchett
had noticed it and thought it strange. * But
doubtless he means to write you a long letter
himself one of these days,' said the good-
natured old woman ; * he knew his old nurse
would be anxious, God bless him ! and so he
wrote to her first.'

276 TIM CHAP.

But the letter Mrs. Quitchett predicted
never came. * If he is well enough to write
to her/ Carol thought, *he is surely up to
sending me just a line, if only to say how
he is ; he might know I should be anxious.'
And he felt, not unnaturally, a little hurt.
He would not write again until Tim chose
to answer his first letter, which had been all
a kindly affectionate heart could make it,
sympathy for his ill-health, regret at his going,
and no hint of blame at the manner of it, not
a word about himself. He had done what
he could ; now he would wait.

These were sad times for Carol ; he was so
unused to sorrow that it had all the added
weight of strangeness. Violet seemed to
have given him up, and now Tim — Tim, to
whom he had turned in his grief with such
implicit reliance, — just when most he needed
the support of friendship and kindness, Tim
had thrown him over too.

* I bored him with my troubles,* said the
poor boy to himself a little bitterly ; * it was

I

XII TIM 277

very natural ; one could not expect a child
like that to feel interest in such a subject.
And yet he seemed so fond of me, and he
never was quite like other boys of his age —
older and younger at once, somehow. Well,
well, who would have thought he was only
a fair-weather friend after all I '

He did not know, poor fellow, all that the
* fair-weather friend ' had borne, and was bear-
ing, for his sake ; he could not see him sitting
gazing out to sea hour after hour, with eyes
that saw nothing, and ears to which the long
wash of the waves upon the beach kept
always calling * Tim, Tim ! ' in the never-to-
be-forgotten tones that he had heard but the
other day in the old manor-house garden.

But when things are at their worst they
generally mend, and Carol presently found a
star rising on his night, that promised to
comfort him not a little. It was about this
time that Miss Markham Willis, finding that
the.r^/i? she had assumed was anything but
an easy or pleasant one, finding too that the

i

278 TIM CHAP.

obnoxious Tim had gone away, and seeing
that Carol looked delightfully miserable as
he made her a fine sarcastic bow when they
occasionally met in their walks or rides, began
wisely to consider that it did not make her
domestic worries easier to bear to cut her-
self off from her principal extraneous source
of enjoyment, and so determined to take pity
on her lover, and show him some signs of
kindness. At first these only took the form
of a few gracious smiles. Then finding that
these had not quite the effect she desired, she
made her mother take her to call at the Court,
and there, as she had hoped, was Carol.

* Why, Lily dear, — I mean Violet ! ' cried
old Mrs. Darley, * I declare you are quite a
stranger ; where have you hidden yourself all
these days ? '

*0h! there has been so much to do at
home, dear Mrs. Darley,' answered Violet, all
radiant with smiles, and glowing on Carol at
second-hand through grandmamma. *You
know Fraulein has gone away for a holiday, so

XII TIM 279

I have all the children on my hands from
morning till night. I never appreciated poor
Fraulein before ; but now I have had a taste
of what her life is, I feel quite differently
towards her; if it was only the bread-
and-butter. I assure you, I rival Goethe's
Charlotte in the art of cutting bread-and-
butter.'

* Dear, dear, do young folks read the
sorrows of What's-his-name nowadays } My
poor dear mother never would allow us to.
She said it was a dreadful book, and that
when it first came out it made all the young
men commit suicide. To tell the truth, when
I did read it, I didn't think it very interesting,
but perhaps I am not a good judge. You do
take sugar, Mrs. Wilkins, don't you "i '

* Please yes, a little ; thank you, quite
enough. I do hope, Mrs. Darley, I haven't
let Violet read anything improper ; what you
said just now about that book, you know.
But Fraulein told me all young ladies
read it in Germany as being a classic. I

28o TIM CHAP.

don't read German myself, but I placed
reliance on her.'

Carol meanwhile held obstinately in the
background, looking black as a thunder-cloud,
and strongly inclined to compare himself
with the other unfortunate who was cursed
with love for a woman that cut bread-and-
butter. But when the visitors rose to take
leave, while the elders were making their
little farewell speeches, Violet took occasion
to say to him in an undertone, and with a
look of gentlest expostulation —

* Are you angry with me, Carol ? you
haven't been to see us for an age ; won't you
come and see us again ? '

Had he been dreaming ? he wondered ; was
it all a mistake of his, this fancied coldness
on her part? She spoke with such entire
innocence, a little justly hurt, but ready to
forgive, that he began to think it must have
been his fault. His resentment was not proof
against this ; he pressed the little hand she held
out to him, and promised to come next day.

XII TIM 281

* I am going primrosing in the morning/
she said, * in Fern Dingle, so it is no good
coming then/

And on the way home she seemed in such
high spirits, that her mother stole her hand
into hers and asked her what she had said to
Carol. But Violet for all answer trilled out
the words of an old catch —

The falling out of faithful friends, renewal is of love,

until the woods echoed to her bright clear
singing ; and then, putting her arm round her
mother, she said, * Silly mamma,' and kissed
her.

Of course Carol vowed to himself that
nothing should tempt him to go near Fern
Dingle the next morning, and of course he
went; and there, over the big half-filled
basket of primroses, the lovers made up this
not very terrible quarrel. Violet was half
contrite, half reproachful, wholly gentle and
charming.

* Had she been sulky ? she half feared so ;
but she had been dreadfully busy, and the

282 TIM CHAP.

children had been a little tiresome sometimes,
and she had been rather out of sorts. Carol
must forgive her if she had unwittingly hurt
him ; how could he suppose she meant any-
thing ; he ought to have known she didn't.'

And Carol, we may be sure, was not very
hard to melt. He began, on the contrary, to
feel that it was he who was in the wrong
for having doubted Violet's constancy; but
for this he, in his turn, received absolution,
and was presently taken back into favour.

As to Tim, his name was not mentioned
between them ; if they thought about him
at all, which is unlikely, they certainly did
not waste these precious moments in talking
about him. Violet's little spurt of indigna-
tion against him was of the most transitory
nature ; had she recollected it, it would have
been to be rather ashamed of it ; besides, he
was gone away, and that was enough ; and
Carol would certainly not have introduced a
subject on which he was feeling a little sore.
Violet was restored to him ; the first cloud

XII TIM 283

that had shadowed his young brightness
had rolled away ; and nothing else seemed to
matter much. He went back to Cambridge
in a far more peaceful frame of mind, and
plunged with robust cheerfulness into all the
pleasures of the May term.

One day the old Squire, meeting Mr.
Ebbesley on the road, stopped his pony to
ask after Tim.

'Sorry to hear your boy was not quite
strong, Ebbesley,' he said kindly.

* Thank you,' said Mr. Ebbesley ; * he is
quite well again now, and gone back to school.*

* Ah ! I must tell Carol when I write ; he'll
be glad to hear it ; the boys are fond of one
another ; but most likely the young 'un will
be writing to him himself.'

* Ah ! by the way, Mr. Darley, that
reminds me, if you are writing to your
grandson, will you kindly say my boy hopes
he will excuse his not writing to him at
present? he has to read rather hard for his
upper division trials, and by the doctors

284 TIM CHAP.

advice, I discourage his working his brain
in other ways, too.'

* Quite right, quite right. When I was a
lad we didn't write letters much. To be
sure, it was before the penny post ; but I
can't say I should have used it much if it
had been invented. I never was a good
correspondent ; I don't think I ever wrote
to my poor dear father when I was a lad
except when I wanted money, which I
generally didn't get. Well, good-bye. Can
you come and dine with us, Tuesday "i *

* Thank you, but I am obliged to go to
town again to-morrow.'

And so the two men separated ; and, the
Squire's memory not being of the best,
Carol never got the message.

It was quite true ; Tim was trying very
hard to drown in work the recollection of
his troubles. It is not easy to take bodily
out of one's life a sentiment, the growth of
nearly eight years, and not feel the change ;
and Tim's was not a nature to which changes

XII TIM 285

came easily. To take his devotion to Carol
out of his life, did I say ? Why, it was his
life ; it had begun when he first began to
feel anything, and had grown with his growth
ever since. In some fantastic way every-
thing else in the world seemed to cluster
round that central point ; nothing was of
interest until he had somehow brought it
into relation with this ruling and pervading
sentiment. And it was this that he had
undertaken to cast from him and forget.
He felt as some flower might which a child
had plucked from its root, and then stuck
back in the ground expecting it to go on
growing as heretofore.

As often happens, after the very cold
winter came an unusually hot summer. The
air seemed to pulse and vibrate. Scarcely
a leaf stirred of the lime-trees before the
chapel, heavy and odorous with their wealth
of blossom, and drowsy with the hum of
innumerable bees. The boys grew languid
and listless over their lessons, and even over

286 TIM CHAP.

their games. They fell asleep in three
oclock school, an offence with which the
masters could not in their hearts but feel a
secret sympathy. The dust seemed to spring
eternal, almost from under the very hose of the
water-cart that went ceaselessly to and fro
through the highways of the old school, and
the pelargoniums and fuchsias drooped in the
window-boxes, because their owners had not
the energy to water them. Eton is a healthy
place, in spite of all its enemies say to the
contrary, and the life there is for most boys
the healthiest that could be devised. But
Tim was not as most boys. To him, to eat,
sleep, and study in one small room, to wear
a high hat and a tight black cloth coat, with
the thermometer at something fabulous in
the shade, was very trying. The heat that
made other lads drowsy and languid, roused
him to unnatural and feverish alertness ; so
far from sleeping in school, he did not sleep
at all. When we reflect that in addition to
this he was fretting day and night over his

XII TIM 287

hidden sorrow, — a sorrow from which he was
persistently trying to find escape in extra
hard work, in spite of headaches and other
warning signs, — the result is not difficult to
foretell. What wonder if he broke down ?
He never went in for those upper division
trials. One day he did not come to dinner,
he the soul of regularity ; and when they
went to look for him they found him stretched
on the floor of his room, his face white and
set, his eyes open, but with no consciousness
in them. They put him to bed and sent for
the doctor, who pronounced it a curious
case.

* It is no doubt partly the heat,' he said,
* and he has been working too hard ; but he
must have been in a wretched state of health
to begin with ; neither the weather nor his
work is enough to account for it.*

* He has never been very strong,' answered
his tutor, * and lately I have noticed that he
has been working very hard, harder than
was necessary even. I have had once or

288 TIM CHAP.

twice to put on the drag, a thing I am very
seldom forced to do/

* He must have perfect rest and quiet,
and must not write or read even the lightest
books for a long time to come ; when he is
able to bear the move, he had better be
taken home.'

So the tutor went and wrote a kind
sympathetic letter to Mr. Ebbesley, telling
him his son was ill. How ill he thought
him he took care not to say, but he did
say enough to carry an awful dread to the
father's heart. A chill foreboding seized
upon him, and would not be shaken off, — a
presentiment that he was to lose his child,
that child so zealously longed for, so little
appreciated, and yet in a way so deeply
loved.

William Ebbesley was in no sense of the
word religious ; the rough struggle with the
world that had filled his early years had not
tended to bring him into the devotional atti-
tude, nor had he ever been visited by one of

XII TIM 289

those overwhelming joys that sweep the saul,
whatever the nature of its beliefs, with an
imperious necessity for giving thanks. And
great and terrible as had been some of his
sorrows, they had been such as harden and
embitter rather than the reverse. But now
he felt in some dim way a kind of wonder if
this were intended as a punishment to him
for the little regard he had paid to the one
blessing of his life, which, in that it did not
bless him in strict accord with his own
notions of what he desired, he had flung
from him so carelessly, the priceless gem of
his child's love. How that child could love,
he had seen ; and till now the thought that
the love was not for him but another, had
chafed and angered him. Now he was
humbled by it. Who could say but that
had he tried, he might have turned at least
some streamlet of those freshening waters
into his own parched and rugged field ?

There was an old woman once to whom
certain kind friends of mine used to send

u

290 TIM CHAP.

her dinner. She was quite past work, and
absolutely destitute, except for what was
bestowed upon her in charity, but if the
victuals were not to her taste she would
send them back. Was it that by so doing
she got better ones? On the contrary, the
alternative was to fast, and indeed to risk
offending the givers, and so cutting herself
off from the alms for ever. The proverb
that half a loaf is better than no bread, is
one to which we all give assent with our
lips, but few people, if any, are found will-
ing to make it a rule of conduct. They will
have a whole loaf, new and soft, of the finest
wheaten flour, and baked just as they choose,
or they will eat no bread, though they starve
for it. These are perhaps somewhat homely
illustrations for the state of mind of a father
half wild with grief and self-reproach over a
dying son. For something told him, as I
have said, that the gift which he had so
recklessly cast aside, would never be his now.
His boy would die, and would never know

XII TIM 291

how much he really loved him. If he could
only win him back to life, only make him
think a little more kindly of his father, he
felt that nothing else mattered.

He went and fetched Tim home himself,
and when he saw how ill and fragile the lad
looked, his heart died within him ; he longed
to fall on his knees by him and tell him how
he loved him, and implore him not to leave
him. But the doctor had cautioned him to
betray no emotion, and to conceal as far as
possible any shock he might experience at
his son's appearance.

At first for a few days Tim suffered from
a raging pain in the head ; he could bear no
light and no sound, and they feared that
he would have brain fever. Then suddenly
the pain left him, but left him so exhausted
that he hardly seemed alive. Still, weak as
he was, the doctor thought he had better
be taken away from school, and his father
carried him back to the old manor-house
where his childhood had past. As though

292 TIM CHAP.

to mock William Ebbesley's grief by violent
contrast to the pale and feeble Tim, it was
the time of year when the earth is most
instinct with buoyant and vibrating life, —
July, when the last crowning touch has been
put to the long work of spring, while no
foreshadowing of the yet distant autumn has
fallen on any leaf. The lilies were in their
tallest, whitest majesty, the roses blushed
and glowed in the old garden, where, a few
weeks before, Tim had hidden himself from
the voice of his friend.

' I never see such a year, sir,' said the
gardener ; * everything is a-doing better than
I've ever known it since IVe lived here.'

Yes. Everything. Everything but that
one blossom for which he would gladly have
bartered all the wealth of sunny fruit and
folded petals, and on which a frosty hand
had been laid in the midst of all the warmth
of summer. For Mrs. Quitchett's old friend
the doctor, who had known Tim from a baby,
did not dare conceal from the poor father his

XII TIM 293

belief that the lad would die. How soon he
could not say ; he might even be wrong, and
Tim might take a turn and begin to gain
strength ; but he was afraid to hope it. The
little stock of life in him seemed to be ebbing
away. He might go on for a year, or it
might be much sooner; it was impossible
to say.

* And could nothing be done } ' asked the
father. 'Were there no new remedies he
could try, no learned men to consult, no
places or climates in which the flickering
young life would have a better chance to
reassert itself ? '

The old doctor's voice trembled as he
answered. He was almost as fond of the
child himself, and he grasped Mr. Ebbesley*s
hand and spoke very gently. * I should
only be deceiving you if I said " yes " ; of
course consult any one you will, if it will be
any comfort to you ; but they will only say
the same thing. There is no organic disease ;
he is dying of sheer weakness, and to drag

i

294 TIM CHAP.

him about the world will only use up the
little stock of strength he has left. If, as
God grant, he takes a turn and lives till the
winter, then I don't say but it would be well
to try a better climate. But at present he is
as well off here as anywhere.'

So, then, there was no help for it ; nothing
to do but to watch his child fade slowly from
him, to see him grow whiter, thinner, more
easily tired day by day.

The Darleys were all away, and Violet
was with them. The Court was shut up,
and Tim might have wandered up there
without any fear of meeting Carol. But he
found, when he tried it, that even this walk,
short as it was, was beyond his powers, and
this, coming upon him with a vague surprise,
was the first intimation to him of how ill he
really was. He thought of the old childish
days when he had skimmed across the fields
for miles round his home, and the Court
woods had been but the beginning of his
rambles.

XII TIM 295

Mrs. Quitchett thought of those days
too, and wept when she compared the child,
small and frail, it is true, but lithe and active
as a young squirrel, with the figure of the
slim lad of sixteen that moved so slowly
round the garden paths. *Who would ha*
thought, who would ha* thought that see*d
us two,' sobbed the poor old woman, *that
he was the one the Lord would take first to
Himself!* But to Tim she showed a smiling
front, watching every sign, indefatigable in
her zeal to miss no attention that might do
good, and never admitting for a moment that
he was not getting better.

As the Ethiopian cannot change his skin,
so was it not given to William Ebbesley in
an instant to alter his whole nature ; such
changes do not happen in real life ; and even
now he caught himself sometimes speaking
half-sharply to Tim, when the struggle within
him was almost more than he could bear.
But the boy did not feel afraid of him any
longer; it seemed as though he had some

296 TIM CHAP.

intuition of all that his father was suffering
and had suffered on his account ; he was
beginning to understand him, and in the
place of his old fear there welled up in his
heart an infinite pity.

One day, when Mr. Ebbesley had brought
out cushions with which to make the garden
seat easy and soft for him, and was turning
to go, as he usually did after shyly proffer-
ing some such little act of tenderness,
Tim laid one of his thin white hands on
his, saying, 'You are very good to me,
father/

' Oh ! my boy, my little son,' burst out the
poor man, * I have been a very hard father
to you. I see it all now ; I thought, I meant
to do what was right, but I have been very
cruel. Oh ! if I could only atone ! but you
will never forgive me, never love me
now.*

The cry that had been stifling him was
uttered at last, the proud man had humbled
himself, the thin partition that for eight years

XII TIM 297

had kept these two apart had crumbled and
let them find one another.

Tim for all answer put up his other arm
and drew his fathers head down upon his
breast, and so for a little space they sat quite
silent. After a time Tim said very simply,
* Do you remember the talk we had about
my grandmother ? You said all her family
died young ; I think / shall die this summer.'

H is father could not speak : he could not
contradict him, he could only fold him more
closely in his arms ; and it was Tim who
spoke again.

*You mustn't fret for me, father; I am
surprised myself to find how little I mind
the thought ; I think I am rather glad. But
there is something I have wanted to say. I
am afraid I have not been all you wished ;
I have disappointed and vexed you. Do
you forgive me } '

Still his father could not trust himself to
answer save by that convulsive hold ; the
words meant to ask pardon set themselves

298 TIM CHAP. XII

in array against him like accusing angels.
What words could he find strong enough to
express all he was feeling ? But Tim smiled
and was satisfied. He seemed as though he
understood.

CHAPTER XIII

. . . Even the weariest river
Winds, somewhere, safe to sea.

Swinburne's Garden of Proserpine.

As the weeks succeeded each other, one
thought was ever present in the mind of Tim.
'Shall I see him again before I die? It
can do him no harm now. I shall so soon
be out of the way ; I cannot come between
him and his love any more/

As his poor hands, whose hold on this
world was loosening day by day, grew
thinner and more transparent, his face paler,
his step slower upon the gravel, his heart
yearned ever with a patient longing for just
one more sight of the friend to whom his
whole life had been true. But he had given

300 TIM CHAP.

the crowning proof of his devotion — renun-
ciation. The arms that should have been
upholding him in his last sore struggle, he
had himself unclasped ; the dear lips and
eyes that should even now be smiling on his
sick-bed, his own free act had sent far away
from him.

* He will never know that I was true to
him. I shall never see him again.' Through
all the long empty hours this one cry repeats
itself in his soul. All the little life that is left
to him seems concentrated in this one intense
longing for Carol. To see his face, to hear
his loved voice again, if only for a moment ; to
tell him the truth at last ; only once, just once,
before he died. And yet even now he could
not put his thought into words, — could not
bring himself to make this last request to his
father.

As for Mr. Ebbesley, he too was troubled
by one thought which he could not find
the courage to speak. He was always
with Tim now. It was his arm which sup-

fc

XIII TIM 301

ported the boy into the garden where he
loved to sit, and back to the house; no
tending could have been more loving, more
sympathetic. But, as I have said, no one
changes his whole nature at a leap, even in
the great crises of life ; and there was yet
one struggle to be made with his pride
before perfect ease and confidence could
exist between them.

Hour after hour would Tim lie silent and
uncomplaining, yearning for Carol, but dread-
ing to endanger the new-found treasure of
his father's love; dreading to see the old
cloud settle on the face that he was watching,
the hard look grow round the mouth, as it
was wont to do when in the old days he
had been obliged to mention his friend's
name. And William Ebbesley would sit
beside him all the while, divining his
thoughts, knowing there was one supreme
proof of his affection to be given to his son,
one sacrifice that he could make for him, one
happiness that he could give him, and long-

302 TIM CHAP.

ing to make the effort, yet ever just kept
from it by some strange inexplicable shyness
and reserve. For a long time he hoped that
Tim would break the silence, would be the
first to approach the subject ; but at last he
saw that -that was not to be hoped, and he
was half angry with himself for the cowardice
that made him wish to shift this burthen to
those poor weak shoulders. No. It was
clearly for him to take the first step ; had he
not ardently desired some way of showing
his devotion to his son, and when he had it,
was it possible that he should hesitate ?

So one evening when they had been
watching the sunset, which had left a sham
glow on Tim's white cheeks, William
Ebbesley, holding his son's hand, and with
face half- turned away, said suddenly, 'Tim,
dear, you have not everything you want;
there is one thing I have not done for you.'

There was a real glow in Tim's cheeks
now ; the sunset light had faded, but in its
place an inward radiance, brighter but almost

XIII TIM 303

as transient, had spread over the delicate
face. Feeling his grasp tighten, his father
stole a look at him, and even then a pang
shot through him at the thought of the love
that had called forth this happy flush at the
bare chance of a meeting, the love that was
not for him, that might perhaps have been his.

' Oh, father ! you mean ' Tim began

tremulously, and paused ; he dared hardly
complete the sentence even in his own
mind.

William Ebbesley choked down the last
touch of the old jealousy. ' I will write
to-night,* he said quietly, answering the
other s unspoken thought.

But a new trouble had fallen on Tim.
' Will he come } ' he said half to himself ;
and then, 'Oh yes. If I know him for the
kind, generous Carol I think him, he will
surely come.'

Then he asked, * Father, may / write ? *

*You know, dear boy, the doctor has
forbidden you to write a word.'

304 TIM CHAP.

* Yes, I know ; but this will do me good.
I shall not be easy unless I may/

' Won't it do if you dictate to me ? '

'No. I must write myself; nothing else
will do.'

'Well, if you are sure it will not tire you.'
And he went and brought the writing things.

Tim took them eagerly, and was beginning
to write, when he stopped suddenly and
looked up. ' Father, forgive me ; I am
selfish. You are sorry at this.'

It was so unexpected, the little impulse
of unselfish consideration, that at its contact
the last drop of bitterness fell from the
father's heart, and in his eyes for the first
time for more years than he could remember
shone the blessed healing tears to which he
had so long been a stranger.

* No, no, my darling,' he faltered hastily ;

'whatever makes you happy — I ' then

his voice broke, and he could not finish.

'God bless you, dear dear father. I am
quite happy now.'

XIII TIM 305

And this was Tim's letter : ' I am very-
ill, Carol — dying, I think. Dear Carol, if I
have seemed ungrateful, can you and will
you forgive me ? I could explain to you if
I had you here, but I can't write. Come
to me, Carol dear. — Your loving Tim.'

' Father.*

' Yes, dear.*

' Do you want to see what I have
written "i '

* No, my boy, no.'

Mr. Ebbesley took the letter and sealed
it ; then he sent it to the address that he
had already got from the servants at the
Court.

Whether it was the reaction from the
tense longing in which he had been living,
or merely that as his strength decreased the
change in him grew more apparent, Tim
seemed to get worse much more quickly
after his letter had gone.

The doctor came and went, shaking his
head sadly, and saying, * It is quicker than

X

3o6 TIM CHAP.

I thought,' and despair settled down upon
the two watchers by the sick boy.

But still Tim waited day by day for the
answer that was to bring peace to his soul.
Life was slipping away too fast. ' Oh !
come, Carol/ he would whisper, *or it may
be too late ; she will surely spare you just
for a little.'

Tim had been at home nearly a month
now ; the blazing July weather had ended in
a rather wet August. All around, the harvest
lay beaten down by the rain ; not the only
grain stricken ere it had come to maturity.
One evening, after a more than usually
dreary day, the clouds had broken, giving
place to a gorgeous sunset. Tim had been
placed on a sofa in the open window, from
which he could watch the purple and crimson
and gold, and the delicate green and lilac
tints of the western sky ; the same sofa on
which he had lain eight years before, ponder-
ing on his 'angeV and had seen Carol come
in with his offering of grapes.

XIII TIM 307

* Father/

* Yes, my boy/ He knew too well what
question was coming.

* Has the postman been ? '
*Yes, dear/

Alas! no letter. Tim did not even ask,
knowing that if there were one, it would be
given to him at once. He closed his eyes
and lay quite still. His father looked wearily
out of the window ; he knew what was pass-
ing in the lad*s mind, and had come to desire
the letter almost as much as the sick boy
himself.

The air was cool and fresh. The garden
was yielding a thousand scents to the soft
touch of the summer rain. The setting sun
lit little coloured lamps in the large drops
that hung from every leaf of the grateful
trees and shrubs ; the birds kept up a drowsy
twittering. A few knowing old blackbirds
and thrushes, well aware that the moisture
brings out the fine fat worms, were hopping
about on the grass-plot in search of their

3o8 TIM CHAP.

supper. All sounds were strangely distinct
that evening.

Hark ! what was that "i surely a step on
the wet gravel ; not old Richard the
gardener's step. No, it was a young foot
that struck the ground lightly, and scrunched
stoutly along the little approach to the house.
Tim*s ears had caught the sound, and he
started up from his pillows, his cheeks
aflame, his eyes bright and eager, while
his heart beat loud and fast. He would
know that dear step among a thousand.

He had come — at last, at last !

Mr. Ebbesley stole noiselessly away, with
a heavy dull ache in his heart, and I am afraid
neither of the friends noticed his absence.
In the same room, in the same place, in the
same attitudes in which they had met as
children, they had come together again.

' Oh, Carol ! are you come to me V

' Oh, my poor dear Tim !*

Carol could say no more. He was
shocked at the havoc these few short weeks

^

XIII TIM 309

had wrought. A sacred silence rested be-
tween them for a few minutes. Enough for
Tim that he was there ; no need of words.
Carol was the first to speak ; his voice was
hushed and full of awe.

' I was not with my family when your
letter came, dear Tim, and they did not
know where to forward it to me, as I was
moving about ; so I never got it for nearly
ten days, or I should have been here long
ago.'

' Oh, Carol ! how good of you to come.
I half thought sometimes — forgive me for
doubting you — but I thought you might not
come at all — after — after the way I treated
you.'

' Don't let's talk of that now, Tim ; it's
past and gone. I don't want you to explain ;
I am content not to understand. I remem-
ber only the dear good friend of the old
days, who is come back to me.'

* But I must talk of it, please, Carol ; I
must tell you how it was. It can do no harm

3IO TIM CHAP.

now, and I can*t leave you thinking hardly
of me, for you know I have not very long to
live ; something tells me you are come only
just in time/

* Oh ! dear dear boy, for God's sake,
don*t talk like that/ said Carol, with a great
lump rising in his throat. 'You are not
going to — to ' He felt all the repug-
nance of the young and strong to face the
thought, or say the word.

' To die/ Tim finished the sentence for
him quite simply. ' Yes, I think so.'

'No, no ; you will get well and strong.
You must, for all our sakes.*

Tim smiled and shook his head ; it did
not seem to him worth while to argue the
point ; that was not what he wanted to say.

' Never mind,' he said gently, in a way
that put the subject aside as unimportant.
* If I had lived I could not have had you with
me now. I could never have told you what
I am going to tell you. Carol, will you
believe me when I say that I never wavered

XIII TIM 311

for an instant in my love for you; never
loved you better than when I seemed to give
you up ?* Tim was getting excited, and
Carol, fearing it would be bad for him, tried
in vain to stop him. * Oh, Carol ! it was for
your sake I did it ; will you believe me when
I tell you all this ?'

* For my sake, dear qH boy ? I don't
understand you.' He thought his friend's
mind was wandering, but he was very patient
and tender with him, humouring him, as one
would a sick child.

* She said — I heard her say — that I came
between you. You know, Carol, it was
when you were so unhappy ; and then I saw
that I was the cause of it all ; and so I de-
termined not to come between you any more ;
and, indeed, indeed, dear Carol, I would have
held my tongue for ever, only there is no
more need now. I could not die and leave
you thinking ill of me. I suppose I ought
to have, but I couldn't do it'

A new light was breaking in upon Carol.

312 TIM CHAP.

*And did you do all this for me?* he asked
wonderingly. * Why, Tim, I knew you liked
me absurdly, much more than I deserved,
but I never dreamt you cared as much for
me as that/

'And you understand now, Carol, don't
you, why I didn't answer your dear letter ?
See, I have it here ; it never leaves me.'

* I was a beast and a fool to doubt you,
Tim. How could I ever have done it ? but
it did seem as though you must be bored
with me and my affairs. And all the time
you were doing this for me ! '

'Carol, did she mind your coming to
me? Tell me I have not made fresh mis-
chief between you ?'

* She was very unhappy when I told her
how ill you were, and she said, " Oh ! go at
once to him ; I can guess what it would be
to be ill and wanting you ; and he has been
waiting so long already." And then she
cried, and said a great deal I did not under-
stand at the time about having been jealous

XIII TIM 313

of my friendship for you, and having had
hard thoughts of you sometimes, and that
she was so ashamed of herself now that you
were so ill. I was to be sure and tell you,
and to ask if you would ever forgive her/

'There is nothing to forgive/ Tim
answered indifferently.

' But how did you guess,' Carol continued,
*how could you imagine that she felt any-
thing of the sort?'

Then Tim told him all that he had over-
heard Violet say, only softening it off, and
generalising a little with fine tact. And then,
the floodgates once open, he went on with
sudden eloquence, the more touching from its
sheer simplicity, and told all the long story
of his constant love, but with as little mention
as possible of his father throughout, and of
the part he had played in it. And this short
hour, which some may think was a sad one,
was just the happiest of Tim's whole life.

Carol listened in wonder and awe, not
unmingled with compunction, as the descrip-

314 TIM CHAP.

tion of the feeling he had so unconsciously
excited unrolled itself before him. He forgot
himself, Violet, his love for her, everything
for the moment in contemplation of this
devotion, so single-hearted, so lofty, so pure
and so unselfish, which had been his, all
his, and at which he had been so far from
guessing.

' I had no idea of anything of the kind,'
he said, more to himself than to Tim. * I
knew the old people were awfully fond of
me, God bless them ; and I understand what
I feel for Violet. But this beats me ; IVe
always been what's called popular, I suppose.
I never thought much about it, but fellows
have always been jolly to me, and seemed to
like me. Oh ! my dear friend, what have I
ever done that you should care about me like

this r

Tim s face lit up exultingly. * " Passing the
love of women," ' he said ; ' that was it, Carol,
wasn't it? '*Thy love to me was wonder-
ful, passing the love of women." Do you

XIII TIM 315

remember the day when they read it in the
lesson in chapel at Eton ?'

Carol had forgotten, but Tim's words
brought back the scene with strange distinct-
ness : the big chapel in its stillness, the
silence of a great crowd, and of a crowd
unused to be still, the little flecks of light
from the air-holes in the roof, the ugly
picture of the finding of Moses in the window
opposite his seat, the droning voice of the
reader, and the flash of the little face that
turned up to his, with the expression that
had puzzled him at the time.

* Yes, I remember,' he answered.

' I have thought of it so often since. It
would be grand for one's friend to be able
to say that of one, after one was dead. Put
your strong arms round me, Carol, and raise
me a little ; I can talk better so.'

Carol lifted the poor thin body as easily
as a baby, and propped it up on the
cushions.

' Thank you, that is better. Ah ! don't take

3i6 TIM CHAP.

your arms away ; let me feel them round me
for a little. Carol, when I am buried, I want
those words to be put on the stone. My
father will let it be so, I know, if I wish it ;
I shall ask him the last thing. But you must
remind him.'

* Oh ! Tim, I can't bear to hear you talk
so. You mustn't die ; we all want you so
much.*

* Don't cry, Carol ; you will do as I wish,
won't you ? And, Carol, tell her how I tried
to make things happy for her and you; I
want her to think kindly of me too.'

He laid his head on his friend's breast
and closed his eyes ; the effort of talking so
much had tired him. Carol thought he was
asleep, and dared not move for fear of waking
him ; but by and by he said, * Do you
remember, Carol ? I lay on this sofa when
you first came to see me after the accident.
I had been dreaming of you without knowing
it ; I thought you were an angel. And then
I turned and saw you standing there in the

XIII TIM 317

doorway. You kissed me that day, Carol.
Will you kiss me now ?*

Carol bowed his head without a word
and kissed him. And thus their friendship
was sealed at either end.

* Father/ said Tim, after a little, ' are
you there ? '

*Yes, my boy.' He had come in, and
was standing a little apart in the deepening
twilight, humbly watching the friends. How
unlike the proud man who had so bitterly
resented his little son's preferring another to
himself !

' Will you come here, father "i I cannot
see you there.' He came round the sofa,
and Tim held out his hand to him. *You
and Carol must love one another,' he said,
looking from one to the other, * for my sake.'
Silently the two men clasped hands Over the
couch.

*You must leave us now, Carol dear,'
Tim went on ; ' I must be alone with my
father.'

3i8 TIM CHAP. XIII

Carol longed to say something, but
could not ; he went out without a word. Tim
watched him walk away with eyes that knew
they were taking their last look. Then a
satisfied smile lit up his face as he turned it
to his father.

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Vol. I. Chaucer to Donne ; II. Ben Jon-
son TO Dryden ; III. Addison to Blake;
IV. Wordsworth to Rossetti.

WOODS (M. a.).— a First Poetry Book.

Fcp. 8vo. 3f . 6d.
A Second Poetry Book, a Parts. Fcp.

8vo. zx. 6d. each.
A Third Poetry Book. Fcp.Svo. 4s. 6d.

WORDS FROM THE POETS. WithaVif
nette and Frontispiece. 12th Edit. xSmo. is.

PROSE FICTION.

17

Prose FictioxL

BIK^LAS (D.).— LouKis Laras; or. The
Reminiscences of a Chiote Merchant durine
the Greek War of Independence. Translated
by J. Gennadius. Cr. 8vo. 7*. 6d.

BJORNSON (B.).— Synnove Solbakken.
Translated by Julie Sutter. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

BLACK (William).— The Strange Adven-
TURES OF A Phaeton. lUustr. €r. 8vo. 6s,

A Princess of Thule. Cr. 8vo. 6s,

The Maid of Killeena: and other

Tales. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

— — Madcap Violet. Cr. 8vo. dr.

Green Pastures and Piccadilly. Cr.

8vo. dr.

Macleod of Dare. Illustr. Cr. 8vo. 6*.

White Wings. Cr. 8vo. dr.

The Beautiful Wretch; The Four

MacNicols ; The Pupil of Aurelius.
Cr. 8vo. dr.

Shandon Bells. Cr. 8v6. dr.

Yolande. Cr. 8vo. dr.

Judith Shakespeare. Cr. 8vo. dr.

The Wise Women of Inverness : A

Tale, and other Miscellanies. Cr. 8vo. dr.

White Heather. Cr. 8vo. dr.

Sabina Zembra. Cr. 8vo. dr.

BOLDREWOOD (Rolf).— Lrni/hrm Edition.
Cr. 8vo. 3J. 6d. each.

Robbery Under Arms: A Story of Life and
Adventure in the Bush and in the Goldfields
of Australia.
The Miner's Right.
The Squatter's Dream.
A Sydney-Side Saxon.
A Colonial Reformer.

Nevermore. 3 vols. Cr. 8vo. 31J. 6d,

BURNETT (Frances Hodgson).-H a worth's.
Globe 8vo. 2s.

Louisiana, and That Lass o* Lowrie's.

Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. y. 6d.

CARMARTHEN (Marchioness of). — A
Lover of the Beautiful. Cr. 8vo. dr.

CONWAY (Hugh). — A Family Affair.
Cr. 8vo. 3J. 6d,

Living or Dead. Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d.

CORBETT (Julian).— The Fall of Asgard:
A Tale of St. Olaf 's Day. 2 vols. Gl. 8vo. izr.

For God and Gold. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

Kophetua the Thirteenth. 2 vols.

Globe Svo. I2J.

CRAIK {^r%.\— Uniform Edition. Cr. 8vo.
3f. 6d. each.
Olive.

"The Ogilvies. Also Globe 8vo, 2J.
Agatha's Husband. Also Globe 8vo, is.
The Head of the Family.
Two Marriages. Also Globe 8vo, is.
The Laurel Bush.
My Mother and I.
Miss Tommy: A Mediaeval Romance.
King Arthur : Not a Love Story.

CRAWFORD(F.Marion).-.i/««>&yw-ffi/«V«Vw».
Cr. 8vo. y, 6d. each.

Mr. Isaacs : A Tale of Modem India.
Dr. Claudius.
A Roman Singer.
Zoroaster.

CRAWFORD (F. lUxnxm)— continued,
A Tale of a Lonely Parish.
Marzio*s Crucifix.
Paul Patoff.
With the Immortals.
Greifenstein.
Sant' Ilario.
A Cigarette Maker's Romance.

Khaled : A Tale of Arabia. 2 vols. 12*.

The Witch of Prague. 3 vols. Cr.

Svo. 3W. 6d.

CUNNINGHAM (Sir H. S.).— The Coeru-
leans : A Vacation Idyll. Cr. 8vo. y, 6d.

The Heriots. Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d.

Wheat and Tares. Cr. Svo. y. 6d.

DAGONET THE JESTER. Cr. Svo. 4S.6d.

DAHN (Felix).— Felicitas. Translated by
M. A. C. E. Cr. Svo. 4J. 6d.

DAY (Rev. I^ Behari). — Bengal Peasant
Life. Cr. Svo. dr.

Folk Tales of Bengal. Cr. Svo. ^.6d.

DEFOE (D.). (See Globe Library, p. ao:
Golden Treasury Series, p. 20.)

DEMOCRACY : An American Novel. Cr.
Svo. 4^. 6d.

DICKENS (Charles). — The Posthumous
Papers of the Pickwick Club. With
Notes and Illustrations. Edit, by CharLbs
Dickens the younger. 2 vols. Ext.cr.Svo. 21s.

DILLWYN (E. A.).— Jill. Cr. 8vo. 6s.
Jill and Jack. 2 vols. Globe Svo. la*.

DUNSMUIR (Amy).— Vida: Study of a
Girl. 3rd Edit. Cr. Svo. 6s,

EBERS (Dr. George).— The Burgomaster's
Wife. Transl. by C. Bell. Cr. Svo. 4*. 6d.

Only a Word. Translated by Clara

Bell. Cr. Svo. 4^. 6d.

"ESTELLE RUSSELL "(The Author oQ.—
Harmonia. 3 vols. Cr. Svo. 31s. 6d.

FALCONER (Lanoe).— Cecilia de Noel.
Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d.

FLEMING (George).— A Nile Novel. Gl.

Svo. 2J.

Mirage : A Novel. Globe Svo. is.

The Head of Medusa. Globe Svo. is.

Vestigia. Globe Svo. is.

FRATERNITY: A Romance. 2 vols. Cr.
Svo. lis.

"FRIENDS IN COUNCIL" (The Author
oO. — Realmah. Cr. Svo. dr.

GRAHAM Oohn W.).— Ne.bra : A Tale of
Ancient Rome. Cr. 8vo. dr.

HARBOUR BAR, THE. Cr. Svo. 6*.

HARDY (Arthur Sherburne).— But yet a

Woman : A Novel. Cr. Svo. 4*. 6d.
The WiNDOF Destiny. 2vols. Gl.Svo. 12*.

HARDY (Thomas). — The Woodlanders.

Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d.
Wessex Tales : Strange, Lively, and

0)mmonplace. Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d.

HARTE (Bret).— Cressy. Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d.

The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh

and other Tales. O. Svo. 3^ . 6d.

i8

LITERATURE.

UTEBATURE.

Prose Fiction— cantintteJ.

•♦ HOCIAN. M.P." (The Author of).— Ht)GAN,
M.P. (}lo))« Svo. aj.

- Thk Honolkaule Miss Fkkkakd. 01.

Svo. 2J.

Flittk-ks, Tatteks, and the Coun-

SELLOK, ETC. Globc 8vO. 2S.

Christy Carew. Globe Svo. 2s.

Ism ay's Children. (UoIjc Svo. 2s.

HOPPUS (Mao).— A Great Treason : A
Story of the War of Independence. 2 vols.
Cr. 8vo. gs.

HUGHES (Thomas).— Tom Brown's School
Days. Ky An Old Boy.— (Jolden Treasury
Kdition. 4J. 6</. — Uniform Edition. 3*. 6a,
— People's Edition. 2s. — People's Sixpenny
Edition. Illustr. Med. 410. 6^.— Uniform
with Sixpenny Kingsley. Med. Svo. 6J.

Tom Brown at Oxford. Cr. Svo. 5s. 6d.

The Scouring of the White Horsb,

and The Ashen Faggot. Cr. Svo. gj. 6d.

IRVING (Washington). {See Illustrated
Books, p. 12.)

JACKSON (Helen).— Ramona. G1. Svo. ts.

JAMES (Henry).— The Europeans : A Novel.
Cr. Svo. 6s. ; iSmo, 2s.

Daisy Miller: and other Stories. Cr.

8vo» 6s. ; Globe Svo, 2s.

The American. Cr. Svo. dy.— iSmo.

2 vols. 4^.

Roderick Hudson. Cr. Svo. 6s. ; Gl.

Svo, 2f. ; iSmo, 2 vols. 4^.

The Madonna of the Future : and

other Tales. Cr. Svo. 6s. ; Globe Svo, 2s.

Washington Square, the Pension

Beaurei'AS. Cr. Svo. 6j. . Globe Svo, 2s.

The Portrait of a Lady. Cr. Svo.

6s. ; iSmo, 3 vols. 6j.

Stories Revived. In Two Series.

Cr. Svo. dr. each.

The Boston ians. Cr. Svo. 6s.

Novels and Tales. Pocket Edition.

iSmo. 2S. each volume.

Confidence, i vol.

The Siege of London ; Madame de
Mauves. I vol.

An International Episode ; The Pen-
sion Beaukepas ; The Point of View.
I vol.

Daisy Miller, a Study; Four Meet-
ings ; Longstaff's Marriage ; Ben-
VOLIO. 1 vol.

The Madonna of the Future ; A
Bundle of Letters ; The Diary of
A Man ok Fifty; Eugene Pickering.
I vol.

Tales of Three Cities. Cr. Svo. 4s. 6d.

The Princess Casamassima. Cr. Svo.

6s. ; Globe Svo, 2s.

— Partial Portraits.

— The Reverberator.

Cr. Svo.
Cr. Svo.

6s.

6s.

The AsPERN Papers ; Louisa Pallant;

The Modern Warning. Cr. Svo. 3J. 6d.

A London Life. Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d.

The Tragic Muse. Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d.

KEARY (Annie). — Janet's Home. Cr. Svo.
3*. (id.

Clemency Franklyn. Globe Svo. 2*.

Oldbury. Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d.

KEARY (AnnieX— A York and a Lancas-
ter Rose. Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d.

Castle Daly. Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d.

A Doubting Heart. Cr. Svo. y.6d.

KINGSLEY (Charles). — iS:wrrj/<:r Edition,
11 vols. Cilobe Svo. sr. each. — Westward
Ho ! 2 vols. — Two \ ears Ago. 2 vols. —
Hypatia. 2 vols. — Yeast, x vol. — Altok
Locke. 2 vols. — Hereward the Wake.
2 vols.

Complete Edition. Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d. each.

— Westward Ho! With a Portrait. —
Hypatia. — Yeast.— Alton Locke. — Two
Years Ago.— Hereward the Wake.

Sixpi-nny Edition. Med. Svo. 6d.

each. — Westward Ho ! — Hypatia. —
Yeast. — Alton Locke. — Two Years Ago,

— Hereward the Wake.

KIPLING (Rudyard)— Plain Tales from
the Hills. Cr. Svo. dr.

The Light that Failed. Cr. Svo. 6s,

Life's Handicap : Being Stories of mine

own People. Cr. Svo. dr.

LAFARGUE(PhiHp).— The New Judgment
of Paris. 2 vols. Globe Svo. lar.

LEE (Margaret).— Faithful and Unfaith-
ful. Cr. Svo. 35. 6d.

LEVY (A.). —Reuben Sachs. Cr. Svo. y.6d,

LITTLE PILGRIM IN THE UNSEEN, A.
24th Thousand. Cr. Svo. 2s. 6d.

"LITTLE PILGRIM IN THE UNSEEN,
A " (Author of ).— The Land of Darkness.
Cr. Svo. ss,

LYTTON (Earl of).— The Ring of Amasis :
A Romance. Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d.

McLENNAN (Malcolm).— Muckle • Jock ;
and other Tales of Peasant Life in the North.
Cr. Svo. 3J. 6d.

MACQUOID(K.S.).— Patty. Gl. Svo. 2*.

MADOC (Fayr). — The Story of Melicent.
Cr. Svo. 4X. 6d.

MALET (Lucas).— Mrs. Lorimer : A Sketdi
in Black and White. Cr. Svo. ) 3; . 6d,

MALORY (Sir Thos.). {See Globe Library,

p. 20.)

MINTO (W.).— The Mediation of Ralph
Hardelot. 3 vols. Cr. Svo. 31*. 6d.

MITFORD (A. B.).-
With Illustrations.

-Tales of Old Japan.
Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d,

MIZ MAZE (THE); or, The Winkworth
Puzzle. A Story in Letters by Nine
Authors. Cr. Svo. 4^. 6d.

MURRAY (D. Christie). — Aunt Rachbu
Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d.

Schwartz. Cr. Svo. 3^. 6d.

The Weaker Vessel. Cr. Svo. 3*. 6d,

John Vale's Guardian. Cr. Svo. y.6d,

MURRAY (D. Christie) and HERMAN (H.).
—He Fell among Thieves. Cr.Svo. 3^.61^

NEW ANTIGONE, THE: A Romance.
Cr. Svo. 6s.

NOEL (Lady Augusta).— Hithersea Mere.
3 vols. Cr. Svo. 31 J. 6d,

NORRIS (W. E.).— My Friend Jim. Globe

Svo. 2S.

Chris. Globe Svo. ax.

PROSE FICTION— COLLECTED WORKS.

19

NORTON (Hon. Mrs.).-OLb Sir Doug-
las. Cr. 8vo. 6j.

OLIPHANT (Mrs. M. O. W.).— A Son of

THE Soil. Globe 8vo. 2*.
The Curate in Charge. Globe 8vo. 2j.

Young MusGRAVE. Globe Bvo. 2*.

He that will not when He may.

Globe 8vo. as.

Sir Tom. Globe 8vo. 2s.

Hester. Cr. 8vo. 3^. (>d.

1 HE Wizard's Son. Globe 8vo. 2j.

The Country Gentleman and his

Family. Globe 8vo. 2*.

The Seconc Son. Globe 8vo. 2*.

Neighbours on the Green. Cr. 8vo.

3^ . 6d.

Joyce. Cr. 8vo. 3^. 6d.

A Beleaguered City. Cr. 8vo. 3^. 6d.

Kirsteen. Cr. 8vo. 35. 6d.

The Railway Man and his Children.

3 vols. Cr. 8vo. 3 If. 6d.

PALMER (Lady Sophia). — Mrs. Penicott's
Lodger : and other Stories. Cr. 8vo. 2f. 6d.

PATER (Walter). — Marius the Epicurean :
His Sensations and Ideas. 3rd Edit. 2
vols. 8vo. 12s.

ROSS (Percy).— A Misguidit Lassie. Cr.
8vo. 4J. 6d.

RUSSELL (W. Clark).— Marooned. Cr.
8vo. 3J. 6d.

ST. JOHNSTON (A.). — A South Sea
Lover : A Romance. Cr. 8vo. 6*.

SHORTHOUSE O- li^nry).-Um/arm Edi-
tion. Cr. 8vo. 3J. 6d. each.
John Inglesant: A Romance.
Sir Percival : A Story of the Past and of

the Present.
The Little Schoolmaster Mark: A

Spiritual Romance.
A Teacher of the Violin : and other Tales.
The Countess Eve.

Blanche, Lady Falaise. Cr. 8vo. ts.

SLIP IN THE FENS, A. Globe 8vo. 2J.

TIM : A Story of School Life. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

TOURG^NIEF.- Virgin Soil. Translated
by Ashton W. Dilke. Cr. 8vo. 6*.

VELEY (Margaret).— A Garden of Memo-
ries ; Mrs. Austin ; Lizzie's Bargain.
Three Stories. 2 vols. Globe 8vo. i2j.

VOICES CRYING IN THE WILDER-

NESS : A Novel. Cr. 8vo. js. 6d.

WARD (Mrs. T. Humphry). — Miss Brethbr-
TON. Cr. 8vo. 3J. 6d.

WORTHEY(Mrs.).— The New Continent ;
A Novel. 2 vols. Globe 8vo. izr.

YONGE (Charlotte U.).— Uniform Edition.
Cr. 8vo. y. 6d. each.
The Heir of Redclyffb.
Heartsease.
Hopes and Fears.
Dynevor Terrace.
The Daisy Chain.
The Trial: More Links of the Daisy

Chain.
Pillars of the House. Vol. I.
Pillars of the House. Vol. II.
The Young Stepmother.
Clever Woman of the Family.
The Three Brides.
My Young Alcides.
The Caged Lion.

YONGE (Charlotte U.).— Uniform Edition.

Cr. 8vo. 3J. 6d. each.

The Dove in the Eagle's Nest.

The Chaplet of Pearls.

Lady Hester, and The Danvers Papers.

Magnum Bonum.

Love and Life.

Unknown to History.

Stray Pearls.

The Armourer's Prentices.

The Two Sides of the Shield.

Nuttie's Father.

Scenes and Characters.

Chantry House.

A Modern Telemachus.

Bye Words.

Beechcroft at Rockstone.

More Bywords.

A Reputed Changeling ; or, Three Seventh
Years Two Centuries Ago.

The Little DuKE.RiCHARD THE Fearless.

The Lances of Lynwood.

The Prince and the Page.

The Two Penniless Princesses : A].Story
of the Time of James I. of Scotland.

Fs and Q's : Little Lucy's Wonderful
Globe.
That Stick. 2 vols. Cr. 8vo. 12s.

Collected Works ; Essays ; Lectures ;
Letters ; Uiscellaneons Works.

AN AUTHOR'S LOVE. Being the Unpub-
lished Letters of Prosper M^rim^e's
" Inconnue." 2 vols. Ext. cr. 8vo. 12s.

ARNOLD (Matthew).— Essays in Criticism.
6th Edit. Cr. 8vo. 9;.

Essays in Criticism. Second Series.

Cr. 8vo. 7J. (>d.

Discourses IN America. Cr. 8vo. ^.6d.

BACON. With Introduction and Notes, by
F. G. Selby, M.A. G1. 8vo. 3*. ; swd. 2s.6a.
(See a/so Golden Treasury Series, p. 20.)

BLACK! E (John Stuart).r-LAY Sermons.
Cr. 8vo. 6s.

BRIDGES (John A.). — Idylls of a Lost
Village. Cr. 8vo. "s. 6d.

BRIM LEY (George).— Essays. Globe 8vo. ss.

BUNYAN (John).— The Pilgrim's Progress
FROM THIS World to that which is to
Come. z8mo. 2s. 6d. net.

BUTCHER (Prof. S. H.)— Some Aspects of
the Grekk Genius. Cr. 8vo.

CARLYLE (Thomas). (See Biography.)

CHURCH (Dean).— Miscellaneous Wri-
tings. Collected Edition. 5 vols. Globe
8vo. 5J. each. — Vol. I. Miscellaneous
Essays. — II. Dante : and other Essays.
— III. St. Anselm. — IV. Spenser. — V.
Bacon.

CLIFFORD (Prof. W. K.). Lectures and
Essays. Edited by Leslie Stephen and
Sir F. Pollock. C:r. 8vo. 8*. 6d.

CLOUGH (A. H.).— Prose Remains. With
a Selection from his Letters, and a Memoir
by His Wife. Cr. 8vo. 7s. 6d.

COLLINS (J. Churton).— The Study of
English Literature. Cr. 8vo.

CRAIK (Mrs.). — Concerning Men: and

other Papers. Cr. 8vo. 4J. 6d.
About Money : and other Things. Cr.

Bvo. 6s.
Sermons out of Church. Cr. 8vo. 6s,

22

LITERATURE— MEDICINE.

LITERATUBE.

Collected Works ; Essays ; Lectures ;

Letters ; Miscellaneous WotkB—coMtd.

LUKBOCK (Rt. Hon Sir John, Bart.).— The
Pleasures of Life. New Kdition. 6oth
Thousand. Gl.Svo. Parti, u .6</. ; swd. u. —
Library Edition. 3J. td. — Part II. xs. td. ;
sewed, u. — Library Edition. 3J. td. — Com-
plete in I vol. IS. 6d.

MACMILLAN (Rev. Hugh).— Roman Mo-
saics . or, Studies in Rome and its Neigh-
bourhood. Globe 8vo. 6s.

MAHAFFY (Prof. J. P.).-The Principles
OF THE Artof Conversation. Cr.Svo. ^.6d.

MASSON (Da\-id).— Wordsworth, Shelley,
Keats : and other Essays. Cr. 8vo. 5*.

MAURICE (F. D.).— The Friendship of
Books : and other Lectures. Cr. 8vo. 4*. 6d.

MORLEY (John).— Works. Collected Edit.
In n vols. Globe Bvo. $s. each. — Voltaire.
I vol. — Rousseau. 2 vols. — Diderot and

THE ENCYLOPiBDISTS. 2 vols. — On COM-
PROMISE. I vol. — Miscellanies. 3 vols. —
Burke, i vol. — Studies in Literature.
I vol.
MYERS(F.W.H.).— Essays. 2 vols. Cr.Svo.
4J. 6^. each. — I. Classical; II. Modern.

NADAL (E. S.). — Essays at Home and
Elsewhere. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

OLIPHANT(T.L.Kington).— TheDukeand
THE Scholar : and other Essays. 8vo. 7S.6d.

OWENS COLLEGE ESSAYS AND AD-
DRESSES. By Professors and Lecturers
of the College. 8vo. i^s.

PATER (W.).— The Renaissance; Studies
in Art and Poetry. 4th Ed. Cr. 8vo^ los. 6d.

Imaginary Portraits. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

Appreciations. With an Essay on

" Style." 2nd Edit. Cr. 8vo. 8*. 6d.

Marius the Epicurean. 2 vols. Cr.

8vO. I2J.

PICTON (J. A.).— The Mystery of Matter :
and other Essays. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

POLLOCK (Sir F., Bart.).— Oxford Lec-
tures : and other Discourses. 8vo. gs.

POOLE (M. E.).— Pictures of Cottage
Life in the West of England. 2nd Ed.
Cr. 8vo. 3*. 6d.

POTTER (Louisa).— Lancashire Memories.
Cr. 8vo. 6s.

PRICKARD (A. O.).— Aristotle on the
Art of Poetry. Cr. 8vo. 3^. 6d.

RUMFORD. — Complete Works of Count
Rum ford. Memoir by G. Ellis. Por-
trait. 5 vols. 8vo. 4/. 14^. 6d.

SCIENCE LECTURES AT SOUTH KEN-
SINGTON. Illustr. 2 vols. Cr.Svo. 6f.each.

SM ALLEY ((^orge W.).— London Letters

AND some others. 2 Vols. SVO. 32*.

STEPHEN (Sir James Fitzjames, Bart.).—
HoRAE Sabbaticae. Globc Svo.

THRING (Edward).— Thoughts on Life
Science. 2nd Edit. Cr. Svo. 7^. 6d.

WESTCOTT (Bishop). (5"*^ Theology, p. 36.)

WILSON (Dr. George). — Religio Chemici.
Cr. Svo. 8s. 6d.

The Five Gateways of Kkowijedge

gtb Edit. Ext. fcp. Svo. 2*. td.

WHITTIER (John Oreenleaf). The Com-
plete Works. 7 vols. Cr. Svo. 6s. each.—
Vol. 1. Narrative AND Legendary Poems.
— II. Poems of Nature; Poems Subjec-
tive and Reminiscent ; Religious Poems.
— III. Anti-Slavery Poems; Songs of
Labour and Reform. — IV. Personal
Poems ; Occasional Poems ; The Tent on
the Beach ; with the Poems of Elizabeth
H. Whittier, and an Appendix containing
Early and Uncollected Verses. — V. Mar-
garet Smith's Journal ; Tales and
Sketches. — VI. Old Portraits and Mo-
dern Sketches ; Personal Sketches and
Tributes ; Historical Papers. — VII. The
Conflict with Slavery, Politics, and
Reform ; The Inner Life, Criticism.

LOGIC. (See under Philosophy, p. 26.)

MAGAZINES. (See Periodicals).

MAGNETISM. {See under Physics, p. 26.)

MATHEMATICS, History ot

BALL (W. W. R.).— A Short Account of
the History of Mathematics. Cr. Sva

10*. 6d.

MEDICINE.

(See also Domestic Economy ; Nursing ;

Hygiene; Physiology.)

ACLAND (Sir H. W.).— The Army Medical

School : Address at Netley HospitaL \s.

ALLBUTT (Dr. T. CliflFord).— On the Use
OF THE Ophthalmoscope. Svo. 15*.

ANDERSON (Dr. McCall).— Lectures on
Clinical Medicine. Illustr. Svo. ios.6d.

BALLANCE(C. A.)and EDMUNDS(Dr.W.).
Ligation in Continuity. Illustr. Roy.Svo.

BARWELL (Richard, F.R.CS.). — The
Causes and Treatment of Lateral
Curvature of the Spine. Cr. Svo. 5*.

On Aneurism, especially of the

Thorax and Root of the Neck. 3*. 6d.

BASTIAN (H. Charlton).— On Paralysis
FROM Brain Disease in its Common
Forms. O. Svo. jos. 6d.

BICKERTON (T. H.).— On Colour Blind-
ness. Cr. Svo.

BRAIN : A Journal of Neurology. Edited
for the Neurological Society of London, by
A. De Watteville, Quarterly. Svo. js.6a.
(Part I. in Jan. 187S.) Vols. I. to XII. 8va
15^. each. [Cloth covers for binding, xs. each.]

BRUNTON (Dr. T. Lauder). — A Text-
Book OF Pharmacology, Therapeutics,
and Materia Medica. 3rd Edit. Med.
Svo. 2w. — Or in 2 vols. 22s. 6d.

Disorders of Digestion : their Con-
sequences AND Treatment. Svo. 10*. 6d,

Pharmacology AND Therapeutics ; or,

Medicine Past and Present. Cr. Svo. 6*.

Tables of Materia Medica : A Com-
panion to Uie Materia Medica Museum.
Bvo. 5J.

Croonian Lectures on the Connec-
tion BETWEEN Chemical Constitution
and Physiological Action. Being an In-
troduction to Modem Therapeutics. Svo.

BUCKNILL (Dr.).— The Care of the In-
sane. Cr. Svo. 3J. 6d.

CARTER (R. Brudenell, F.C.S.).— A Prac-
tical Treatise on Diseases of the Eyb.

COLLECTED WORKS.

21

GOLDEN TREASURY SERIES— contd.

Plato. — The Phaedrus, Lysis, and Pro-
tagoras. Translated by J. Wright.

Shakespeare. — Songs and Sonnets. Ed.
with Notes, by Prof. F. T. Palgrave.

Shelley. — Poems. Edited by Stopford
A. Brooke. — Large Paper Edit. laj. 6d.

Tennyson. — Lyrical Poems. Selected and
Annotated by Prof. F. T. Palgrave. —
Large Paper Edition. 9^.

— InMemoriam. Large Paper Edit. 9*.

Theocritus. — Bion, and Moschus. Ren-
dered into English Prose by Andrew
Lang. — Large Paper Edition, gs.

Wordsworth. — Poems. Chosen and Edited
by M. Arnold. — Large Paper Edition. 9*.

Charlotte M. Yonge. — A Book of Wor-
thies, gathered from Old HisTORras

AND WRITTEN ANEW.

— A Book of Golden Deeds of all
Times and all Countries.

— The Story of the Christians and
Moors in Spain.

GOLDSMITH, Essays of. Edited by C. D.
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BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG— ZOOLOGY.

DE MORGAN (Mary).— Thk Necklace of
Princess Fiorimondb, and other Stories.
Illustrated 1^ Walter Crane. Ext. fcp.
8vo.^ 3*. 6d,—Larze Paper Ed., with Illus-
trations on India Paper. loo copies printed.

FOWLER (W. W.). (See Natural History.)

GREENWOOD Qtssy E.).— The Moon
Maiden: andotherStories. Cr.Svo. ye.6d.

GRIMM»S FAIRY TALES. Translated by
Lucy Crane, and Illustrated by Walter
Crane. Cr. 8vo. 6s.

KEARY (A. and E.X— The Heroes op
Asgard. Tales from Scandinavian My-
thology. Globe 8vo. as. 6d.

KEARY (E.X— The Magic Valley. Illustr.
by"E.V.B." Globe Bvo. 4s. 6d.

KINOSLEY (Charles).— The Heroes; or,
Greek Fairy Tales for my Children. Cr. Bvo.

S, 6d. — Preseniaium Ed,^ gilt edges, •js.td.
ADAM How AND Lady Why ; or. First
Lessons in Earth-Lore. Cr. 8vo. 3^. (>d.
The Water-IBabies : A Fairy Tale for a
Land Baby. Cr. 8vo. 3*. ' td. — New
Edition. Iilustr. by Linley Sambourne.
Fcp. 4to. xor. 6d.

MACLAREN (Arch.).— The Fairy Family.
A Series of Ballads and Metrical Tales.
Cr. 8vo. ss.

MACMILLAN (Hugh). (See p. 35-)

MADAME TABBY'S ESTABLISHMENT.
ByKARi. Illust.byL.WAiN. Cr.8vo. 4^.6^.

MAGUIRE (J. F.).— Young Prince Mari-
gold. Illustrated. Globe Bvo. 4;. 6d,

MARTIN (Frances).— The Poet's Hour.
Poetry selected for Children. iBmo. 3^. 6d.

SPRING-TlMEWITHTHEPOETS.l8m0.3f.6</.

MAZINI (Linda). — In the Golden Shell.
With Illustrations. Globe Bvo. 4;. 6d.

MOLESWORTH (Mrs.).— Works. lUust. by

Walter Crane. Globe Bvo. zr. 6d. each.

" Carrots,'* Just a Little Boy.

A Christmas Child.

Christmas-Tree Land.

The Cuckoo Clock.

Four Winds Farm.

Grandmother Dear.

Herr Baby.

Little. Miss Peggy.

The Rectory Children.

Rosy.

The Tapestry Room.

Tell Me a Story.

Two Little Waifs.

" Us" : An Old-Fashioned Story.

Children of the Castle.
A Christmas Posy. Illustrated by

Walter Crane. Cr. Bvo. 4*. 6d.
— — Summer Stories. Cr. Bvo. 4*. 6d.
— - Pour Ghost Stories. Cr. Bvo. 6*.
— — Nurse Heatherdale's Story. Illust.

by Leslie Brooke. Cr. Bvo. 4;. 6</.

•«MRS. JERNING HAM'S JOURNAL"
(AathoroO* — ^The Runaway. Gl.Bvo. as.6d.

OLIPHANT (Mrs.). — Agnes Hopetoun's
Schools AND Holidays. Illust. GLBvo. ^,6d.

PALGRAVE (Francis TumerX— The Five
Days' Entertainments at Wentworth
Grange. Small 4to. 6s. •

The Children*s Treasury of Lyrical

Poetry. iBmo. as.6d. — Or in 2 parts, i«. each.

PATMORE (CX— The Children's Gar.
land from the best Poets. Globe Bvo.
as. ; zBmo, as. 6d, net.

ROSSETTI (Christina). — Speaking Like-
nesses. Illust. by A. Hughes. Cr.Bvo. ^.6d,

RUTH AND HER FRIENDS: A Story
FOR Girls. Illustrated. Globe Bvo. as. 6d,

ST. JOHNSTON (A.). — Camping among
Cannibals. Cr. Bvo. 4s. 6d.

Charlie Asgardb: The Story of a

Friendship. Illustrated by Hugh Thom-
son. Cr. Bvo. 5f.

"ST. OLAVE'S" (Author of). Illustrated.
Globe Bvo.

When I was a Little Girl. as. 6d.
Nine Years Old. as. 6d.
When Papa Comes Home. 4^. 6d.
Pansie's Flour Bin. 4; . 6d.

STEWART (Aubrey).- The Tale of Troy.
Done into Englbh. Globe Bvo. 3J. 6d.

TENNYSON (Hon. Hallam).— Tack and
THE Bean-Stalk. English Hexameters.
Illust. by R. Caldecott. Fcp. 4to. 3X. 6d,

"WANDERING WILLIE" (Author of).—
Conrad the Squirrel. Globe Bvo. as. 6d.

WARD (Mrs. T. Humphry).— Milly and
Olly. With Illustrations by Mrs. Alma
Tadema. Globe Bvo. 2^. 6d.

WEBSTER (Augusta).— Daffodil and the
Croaxaxicans. Cr. Bvo. 6s.

WILLOUGHBY (F.).— Fairy Guardians
Illustr. by Townley Green. Cr. Bvo. 5s.

WOODS (M. A.). (See Collections, p. 16.)

YONGE (Charlotte M.).— The Prince and
the Page. Cr. Bvo. 3*. 6d.

A Book of Golden Deeds. iBmo. j^s.6d.;

Globe Bvo, 2j. — Abridged Edition. iBmo. is.
Lances of Lynwood. Cr. Bvo. as. 6d.

P's and Q's ; and Little Lucy's Won-
derful Globe. Illustrated. Cr. Bvo. 3;. 6d,

A Storehouse of Stories, a \ols.

Globe Bvo. as. 6d. each.

The Population ok an Old Pear-

Tree ; or. Stories of Insect Life. From E.
Van Bruyssel. Illustr. Gl. Bvo. as. 6d.

ZOOLOQT.

Comparative Anatomy — Practical Zoology —
Entomology— Ornithology*

(See also Biology ; Natural History ;
Physiology.)

ComDaratiYe Anatomy.

FLOWER (Prof. W. H.).— An Introduction
TO THE Osteology of the Mammalia.
Illustrated. 3rd Edit. , revised with the assist-
anceofHANsGADOW, Ph.D. Cr.Bvo. \os.6d,

HUMPHRY (Prof. Sir G. M.X— Observa-
tions IN Myology. Bvo. 6*.

LANG (Prof. Arnold).— Text-Book of Com-
PARATivB Anatomy. Transl. by H. M. and
M. Bernard. Preface by Prof. E. Haec-
kel. Illustr. 2 vols. Bvo. \Vol. I.Oct, x^^x,

PARKER (T. Jeffer>').— A Course of In-
struction IN Zootomy (Vertebrata),
Illustrated. Cr. Bvo. 8x 6d.

40

ZOOLOGY.

ZOOLOOT.
ComDaratiye Anatomy— cm/»»«^</.

PETTIGREW (J- BellX— The Physiology
OF THE Circulation in Plants, in the
LowEK Animals, and in Man. 8vo. 12s.

SHUFELDT (R. W.).— The Myology of
the Raven {Ctfrvus corax Sinuaius), A
Guide to the Study of the Muscular System
in Birds. Illustrated. 8vo. ly. net.

WIEDERSHEIM(Prof. R.).— Elements of
THE Comparative Anatomy of Verte-
brates. Adapted by W. Newton Parker.
With Additions. Illustrated. 8vo. i2f. 6d.

Practical Zoology.

HOWES (Prof. G. B.).— An Atlas of Prac-
tical Elementary Biology. With a Pre-
face by Prof. Huxley. 4to. 14^.

HUXLEY (T. H.) and MARTIN (H. N.).—
A Course of Practical Instruction in
Elementary Biology. Revised and ex-
tended by Prof. G. B. Howes and D. H.
Scott, Ph.D. Cr. 8vo. lor. 6d.

THOMSON (Sir C. Wyville).— The Voyage
of THE •* Challenger " : The Atlantic.
With Illustrations, Coloured Maps, Charts,
etc 2 vols. 8vo. 45«.

THOMSON (Sir C. Wyville).— The Depths
OF THE Sea. An Account of the Results of
the Dredging Cruises of H.M.SS. "L«ht-
ning" and •^Porcupine,'* 1868-69-70^ With
Illustrations, Maps, and Plans. 8vo. 3xx.6^

Entomology.

BUCKTON (G. B.).— Monograph op the
British CiCADiV, or TETTioiDiE. In 8
Parts Quarterly. 8*. each net. — Part I. Jan.
1890. vol. I. 33*. td. net.

LUBBOCK (Sir John).— The Origin and
Metamorphoses of Insects. Illustrated.
Cr. 8vo. 3*. 6rf.

SCUDDER (S. H.).— Fossil Insects op
North America. Map and Plates. 2
vols. 4to. 90f . net.

Ornithology.

COUES (Elliott).— Key to North American
Birds. Illustrated. 8vo. 2/. zr.

Handbook of Field and General Or-
nithology. Illustrated. 8vo. ros. net.

FOWLER(W. W.). (5-^^ Natural History.)

WHITE (Gilbert). {See Natural History.)

INDEX.

4.20,

Abbey (E. A. ) .
Abbot (F.E.) .
ABBOTT(Rev. E.) 3,1
Acland (Sir H. W.)
Adams (Sir F. O.)
Adams (Herbert B.)
Addison .
Agassiz (L.) .
AiNGER(Rev. A.)
AiNSLIE (A. D.).
Airy (Sir G.B.)
AiTKEN (Mary C.)
AlTKEN (Sir w.)
Albemarle (Earl of
Aldrich(T.B.)
Alexander (C. F.)
Alexander (T.)
Alexander (Bishop)
Allbutt (T. C.)
Allen (G.)
Allingham (W.)
Amiel(H.F.) .
Anderson (A.) .
Anderson (Dr. McCall)
Andrews (Dr. Thomas)
Appleton (T. G.) .
Archer-Hind (R. D.)
Arnold, M. 8. 14, 19, 20, 31, 30
Arnold (Dr. T.) . . 9
Arnold (W.T.) . . 9
Ashley (W. J.). . . 3
Atkinson (X B.) . .2
Atkihsou (Rev. J. C.) i, 38

PAGE

• 37
. 33

.3i30»3i.33
22
28
28
20
3
33
14
27
20

23

3

14

20

8

33
22

6
20

3

14
22

26
36

PAGE
Attwell f H.) . . .20
Austin (Alfredj . . 14
Autenrieth (Georg) . 7
Awdry(F.) . . .38
Bacon (Francis) . 19,. 20
Baines (Rev. E.) . .33
Baker (Sir S. W.) 28, 30, 37, 38
Balch (Elizabeth) . .12
Baldwin ^Prof. J. M.) . 26
Balfour (Rt. Hon. A. J.) 2«;
Balfour CF. M.) . • 5, 6
Balfour (J. B.) . . 6
Ball(V.). ... 38
Ball (W. Piatt) . . 6
Ball(W.W. R.) . . 22
Ballancb (C. A.) . . 22
Barker (Lady) . 2, 8, 37
Barnard (C.) . . .27
Barnes (W.) ... 3
Barry (Bishop). . . 33
Bartholomew (J.G.) . 3
Bartlett (J.) . , . 7
Barwell(R.) . . . 22
Bastable (Prof. C. F.) . 28
Bastian (H. C.) . 6, 22
Bateson (W.^ ... 6
Bath (Marquis of) . . 38
Bather ^Archdeacon) . 33
Baxter (L.) ... 3
Beesly (Mrs.) ... 9
Benham (Rev. W.) . 5, 30, 33
Benson (Archbishop) 33, 33
Berlioz (H. • . 3

Bernard (T. H.)
Bernard (M.) .
Berners Q.) .
Besant(W.) .
Bethune-Baker (J
Bettany (G. T.)

BiCKERTON (T. H.)
BiGELOW (M. M.)
BlK^LAS (D.) .

BiNNiE (Rev. W.)
BiRKs(T. R.) . 6,
BjdRNSON (B.).

Black (W.) .
Blackburne (E.)
Blackib (J. S.)
Blake (J. F.) .
Blake (W.) .
Blakiston Q. R.)
Blanford(H. F.)
Blanford (W. T.)
Blomfibld (R.)
Blyth(A.W.).
Bohm-Bawbrk (Prof.
BOISSEVAIN (G. M.) .
Boldrewood (Rolf X

BONAR (J.)

Bond (Rev. J.).
Boole (G.)
Boughton (G. H.)
BOUTMY (E,) .
Bowbn(H.C.).
Bower (F. O.) .
Bridgbs (J. a.).

f.).

«5. 30,

9i i4i

)

page

• 25

. IS
. XX

4

33

6

32
X3

17

33
33
17
17
3
19

3

3

8
37

24
9

XX

38
38

31
36

37

X3

6

9>
9t

INDEX.

41

PAGE

• 9
28, 29

• 19

• 7

37

3
21

33
26

X

4
14
II
20
27

14

Bright ^H. A.).

Bright (John) .

Brimley(G.) .

Brodie (Sir B. C.) .

Brodribb (W. J.) . 13,

Brooke (Sir J.)

Brooke (S. A.) .13, 14,

Brooks (Bishop)

Brown (A. C.) •

Brown (J. A.) .

Brown (Dr. James) .

Brown (T. E. J .

Browne (J. H. B.) .

Browne (Sir T.)

Browne (W.R.) . . _,

BRUNTON(Dr.T. Lauder) 22, 33

Brycb (James) . . 9, 28, 37

BUCHHEIM (C. A.) .

BUCKLAND (A.).

Buckley (A. B>)
BUCKNILL (Dr. J. C.)
BUCKTON (G. B.)
BUNYAN . . • 4, 19

Burgon(T.W.)

Burke (E.)

Burn (K.).

Burnett (F. Hodgson)

Burns

Bury (J. B.) .

BUTCHER(Prof. S. H.) 13,

Butler (A. J.).

Butler (Rev. G.) .

Butler (Samueh .

Butler (W. Archer)

Butler (Sir W.F.) .

Byron

Cairnes (J. E.)

Caldecott(R^ .12,

Calderwood (Prof. H.)

8, as, 26, 33
31
37
37
33
13
13
37
3
17
36
27

33

a

26,38

22, 23

• 9

• 14

• 33
. 8

29

14

• 30
. 12

2

. 30
. 23

. 20

. 6

4,30i37

20i 37

20
S

9
22

40
20

14
28

I

17
20

9

19*36
37
33
14
33
4
20

29
38, 39

Calvert (Rev. A.)
Cameron (V. L.)
Campbell Q. F.) .
Campbell (Dr. T. M.)
Campbell (Prof. Lewis)
Capes (W.W.).
Carles (W. R.)
Carlyle(T.) .
Carmarthen (Lady)
Carnarvon (Earl of)
Carnot (N. L. G.) .
Carpenter (Bishop)
Carr (J. C.)
Carroll (Lewis)
Carter (R. Brudenell)
Cassbl (Dr. D.)
Cautley(G. S.)
Cazenove (T. G.)
Chalmers Q* B.) .
Chalmers (M. D.) .
Chapman (Elizabeth R.) .
Chasseresse (Diana)
Cherry (R. R.)
Cheyne (C. H. H.) .
Cheyne (T. K.)
Christie (T.) .
Christie (w. D.) .
Church (Prof. A. H.)
Church (Rev. A. J.)
Church (F. J.). — , j.

Church (Dean) 3i4»i3.i9i3i,33
Clark (]. W.) ... 20
Clark (L.) ... 2
Clark (S.) ... 3

page
Clarke (C. B.}. . 9, 28
Clausius (R.> . . . 27
Clifford (Ed.) . ' . 3
Clifford (W. K.) . 19, 26
Clifford (Mrs. W. K.) . 38
Clough (A. H.) . 14, 19
Cobden (R.) . . . 29
Cohen (J. B.) . . .7
CoLENSo (J. W.) . . 32
Coleridge (S. T.) . . 14
Collier (Hon. John) . 2
Collins (J . Churton) . 19
.Colquhoun(F. S.) . . 14
CoLviN (Sidney) . 4, 20
Combe (G.) ... 8
CoNGREVE (Rev. J.) . . 33
Conway (Hugh) . . 17
Cook(E.T.) ... 2
Cooke (C. Kinloch) . . 24
Cooke (J. P.) . . 7, 34
CoRBETT (J.) . . 4, 17, 38
Corfield (W. H.) . .11
CoRRY (T. H.) . . .6
Cotterill(I.H.) . . 8
Cotton (Bishop) . . 34
Cotton (C.) ... 12
Cotton (J. S.) . . . 29
CouES (E.) . . '40
Courthope (W. J.) . .4
Cowell(G.) . . .23
COWPER .... 20
Cox(G.V.) ... 9
CRAiK(Mrs.)i4, 17, 19,20, 37, 38
Craik (H.) . . 8, 29
Crane (Lucy) . . 2, 39
Crane (Walter) . 12, 14, 39
Craven (Mrs. D.) . . 8
Crawford (F. M.) . . 17
Creighton (Bishop M.) 4, 10

CRICHTON-BROWNE(SirJ.) 8

Cross (J. A.) . . .30
Crossley(E.) ... 2
Crossley (H.) . . .37
Gumming (L.) . . . 26
Cunningham (C.) . . 28
Cunningham (Sir H. S.) . 17
Cunningham (Rev. T.) . 31
Cunningham (Rev. W)3i,33,34

CUNYNGHAME(SirA. T.). 23

Curteis (Rev. G. H.) 32, 34
Dahn (F.) . . . 17
Dakyns (H. G.) . . 37
Dale (A. W. W.) . . 31
D ALTON (Rev. J. N.) . 37
Dante . . .3, 13, 37
Davies (Rev. J. LI.). .20, 31, 34
Davies(W.) . . . s
Dawkins(W. B.) . , I
Dawson (G. M.) . . 9
Dawson (Sir J. W.) . . 9
Dawson (J.) . . .1
Day (L. B.) . . . 17
Day(R. E.) ... 26
Defoe (D.) . . 4, 20
Deighton (KA . . 15
Delamotte (P. H.). . 2
Dell(E. C.) . . .12
De Morgan (M.) . . 39
De Vere (A.) . . . 20
Dicey (A. V.) . . 12, 29
Dickens (C.) . . 5, 17
Dicgle (Rev. J. W.). . 34
DiLKE (Ashton W.) . . 19
DiLKB (Sir Charles W.) . 29

DiLLWYN (E. A.)
DOBSON (A.)
Donaldson (J.)
Donisthorpk(W.) .
Dowden (E.) . . 4i X3
Doyle (Sir F. H.) .
Doyle (T. A.) .
Drake (B.)
Drummond (Prof. J.)
Dryden .
Du Cane (E. F.) .
pUFF(Sir M.E.Grant) 20,29,37

17

4>5

7

X

31
32

17
28
22

page

x7
4
33
29
15
14
10

36
34

20

2g

4,30.

Dunsmuir (A.).
DOntzer (H.) .
DuprA (A.)
Dyer (L.) .
Eadie (J.).
Eastlake (Lady)
Ebers (G.)

Edgeworth (Prof. F. Y.).
Edmunds (Dr. W.)
Edwards-Moss (Sir J. E.) 30
EiMER (G, H. T.) . . 6
Elderton (W. a.) . . 9
Ellerton (Rev. J.) . . 34
Elliot (Hon. A.) . . 29
Ellis (T.). ... 2
Emerson (R. W.) . 4) 20
Evans (S.) . . .14
Everett (J. D.) . . 26
Falconer (Lanoe) . 17

Fa RRAR (Archdeacon) 5130,34
FARRER,(SirT. H.) . . 29
Faulkner (F.). . . 7
Fawcett (Prof. H.) . 28, 20
Fawcett (M. G.) . 5, 28
Fay (Amy) . . .24
Fearnley(W.) . . 27
Fearon(D.R.) . . 8
Ferrel(W.) . . .27
Ferrers (N. M.) . . 27
Fessenden (C.) . . 26
Finck(H.T.) .
Fisher (Rev. O.)
Fiske(J.J. 6,9,25,
Fison(L.).
Fitch (J. G.) .
FiTZ Gerald (Claroline)
Fitzgerald (Edward)
'Fitzmaurice (Lord E.)
Fleay(F.G.) .
Fleischer (E.).
Fleming (G.) .
Flower (Prof. W. H.)
FlOckiger (F. A.) .
Forbes (A.)
Forbes (Prof. G.)
Forbes (Rev. G. H.)
Foster (Prof. M.) .
Fothergill (fir. T. M.)

i4i

Fowle (Rev.
Fowler (Rev. T.) .
Fowler (W.W.) .
Fox (Dr. Wilson) .
FoxwELL (Prof. H. S)
Framji (D.)
Frankland (P. F.) .
Fraser (Bishop)
Fraser-Tytler (C. C.)
Frazer (J. G.) .
Frederick (Mrs.) .
Freeman (Prof. £. A.)

X

26, 27
29i34

X

8

14
20

S

13
7
17
39
23
37
3

6,27
8,23

29. 34

25
24
23
28

9

X

34
14

X

8

French (G. R.)

2, 4i

xo, 29, 32

42

INDEX.

\

Friedmann (P.)
Frost (A. B.) .

FroudeH. A.).
FuRNibS (Harry)
FURNIVALL (F.J.)
Fyffe(C. A.) .
Fyfe a. H.) .
Gairdner (J.) .
Galton (FO .
Gamgee (Arthur)
Gardner (Percy)
Garnett (R.) .
Garnett (W.) .
Gaskell (Mrs.)
Gaskoin (Mrs. H.)
Geddes (W. D.)
Gee (W. H.) .
Gbikie (Sir A.).
Gennadius (J.)
GiBBiNS (H. de B.)
Gibbon (Charles)
Gilchrist (A.).
Giles (P.).
Gilman (N. p.)
GiLMORB (Rev. J.)
Gladstone (Dr. J.
Gladstone (W. E.
Glaister (E.) .
Godfray(H.) .
Godkin((j. S.).
GoETHis .

Goldsmith 4, is, 14, »
CjOodale (Prof. G. L.) .
(^oodpellow (J.) .
(k)RDON ((jeneral C G.) .
Gordon (Lady Duff)
GoscHEN (Rt. Hon. G. J.X
GossE (Edmund)
GowQ.) .
Graham (D.) .
Graham (J. W.)
Grand'homme (K) .
Gray (Prof. Andrew)
Gray (Asa)
Gray .

Green (J. R.) . p,
Green (Mrs. J. R.)
Green (W. S.) .
Greenhill (w
Greenwood (T
Griffiths (W.
Grimm

Grove (Sir G.) .
Guest (E.)
Guest (M.J.) .
Guillemin (A.)
GuizoT (F. P. G.)
GUNTON (G.) .
Hales (J. WO .
Hallward '
Hamerton ,

Hamilton (

Hamilton (J.).
Hanbury (D.) .
Hannay (David)
Hardwick (Archd. C.)
Hardy (A. S.)
Hardy (T.)
Hare (A. W.)
Hare (J. C.) .
Harper (Father Thos.)
Harris (Rev. G. C).
Harrison (F,) .
Harrison (Miss J.)

(W. A.}
>(J.E.)
CW.H.)

4. 14
xo, la

4>9

XX

4
28

I
14

17

8

26

6

21
20
ID

37
20

39
23

39

24

. 10

. 10
26, 27

9>

J.)

. 28

16, 20
. 12
2, 21
. 23

0, 23

31. 34

• 17

• 17
. 20

20, 34

25.34

• 34
4, 5. 21

I

FACE

Harte (Bret) . . . 17
Hartig (Dr. R.) . 6

Hartley (Prof. W. N.) . 7
Harwood (G.) . .21, 29, 32
Hayes (A.) . . •14
Headlam (W.). . . 36
Helps (Sir A.) . . .21
Hempel (Dr. W.) . . 7
Herodotus . . •3^
Herrick . . . .20
Hertel (Dr.) ... 8
Hervey (Lord A.) . . 34
Hill (F. Davenport). . 29
Hill (O.) . . . •29
HioRNs (A. H.^ . . 23
HoBART(Lord) . . 21
Hobday (E.) ... 9
Hodgson (Rev. T. T.) . 4
Hoffding (ProL H.) . 26
Hofmann (A. W.) . . 7
Hole (Rev. C). . 7, 10
Holiday (Henry) . . 38
Holland (T. E.) . •12,29
Hollway-Calthrop(H.) 38
Holmes (O.W.,juiur.) . 12

13, 36

Homer

Hooker (Sir J. D.)
" H.) .

^ . 6. 37

HooLE (C H.) . . . 30
Hooper (G.) ... 4
Hooper (W.H.) . . >
Hope (F.J.) ... 9
Hopkins (£.) . . . 14
Hoppus (M. A. M.) . . 18
Horace . . . 13, ao
Hort (Prof. F. J. A.). 30, 3a
HoRTON (Hon. S. D.) . 38
Hovenden (R. M.) . . 37
Howell ((Jeorge) . . 28
Howes {G. B.) . . •40
Howitt(A.W.) . . I
HowsoN (Very Rev. J. S.) 32
Hozier (Col. H. M.). . 24
HObner (Baron) . . 37
Hughes (T.) 4, 15, 18, 20, 37
Hull (£.). . . • a, 9
HULLAH (T.) . . 2, 20, 24
Hume (DT) ... 4
HuMPHRY(Prof.SirG.M.) 28,39
Hunt(W.) . . . 10
Hunt(W.M.). . . 2
hutton (r. h.) . 4, 21
Huxley (T.)4. 21 , 27, 28, 29, 40
Iddings (J. P.). . . 9
Illingworth (Rev. J. R.) 34
Ingram (T. D.) . . 10

10
12
x8
34

2X

• 34
. 26

. 10

. 26

34i37
10, 13

• 34
, , . 29

Jennings (A. C.) . 10, 30

^EVONS (W. S.). 4, 26, 28, 2

^ex-Blake (Sophia).

ohnson (Amy) . . 27

OHNSON (Samuel) . . 13

ONES Cft. Axt\iut^ . . 1*5

Irving (J.)

Irving (washineton)
ackson (Helen)
acob (Rev. J. A.) .
AMES (Henry) .

^ AMES (Rev. H. A.) .

JAMES (Prof. W.) .

James (Sir W.M.) .

Jardine (Rev. R.) .

Jeans (Rev. G. E.) .

JEBB (Prof. R. C.) .

Jellett (Rev. J. H.)

JENKS (Prof. Ed.) .

18.

4, 20, 21

page
Jones (Prof. D. E.) . . 27
Jones (F.). ... 7
Kant . . . -25
Kaki . . . .39

KAVANAGH(RLHn.A.M.) 4

Kay (Rev. W.). . . 31
Keary (Annie). 10, 18, 39

Keary (Eliza) . . - 39
Keats . . . 4, 20, 2x
Kellner (Dr. L.) . . 25
Kellogg (Rev. S. H.) . 34
Kempe (A. B.) . . .26
Ken nedy (Prof. A. B. W. ) 8
Kennedy (B. H.) . . 36
Keynes (J. N.). . 26, 28
Kiepert (H.) ... 9
KiLLEN (W. D.) . . 32
KiNGSLBY (Charles) . 4, 8, 10,
11,12,13,15,18,21,24,32,37,39
KiNGSLEY (Henry) . 20, 37
Kipling (J. L.). . . 38
Kipling (Rudyard) . . 18
Kirkpatrick (Prof.) . 34
Klein (Dr. E.). . 6, 23
Knight (W.) . . .14
KuENEN (Prof. A.) . . 30
Kyn ASTON (Rev. H.) 34, 37
Labberton (R. H.) . . 3
Lafargue (P.). . . 18
Lamb.

Lanciani (Prof. R.).
Landauer(J.). . . 7
Landor . . . 4, 20
Lane-Poole (S.) . . 20
Lanfrey(P.) ... 5
Lang (Andrew). 2, 12, 21, 36
Lang (Prof. Arnold). . 39
Langlby (J. N.) . . 27
Lankester (Prof. Ray) 6, 2x
Laslett (T.) ... 6
Leaf (W.). . . X3, 36
Leahy (Sergeant) . . 30
Lea(M.) .... 18
Lee (S.) . . . 20, 37
Leeper (A.) . . • 37
Legge (A. O.) . . 10, 34
Lemon (Mark) . . .20
Leslie (A.) . . .38
Leth bridge (Sir Roper) . 10
Levy (Amy) . . .18
Lewis (R.) . . .13
LiGHTFOOT(Bp.)2i,3o,3i,33,34

LiGHTWOOD (J. M.) . . 12

Lindsay (Dr. J. A.) . . 23

LOCKYER (J. N.) . 3, 7, 27

Lodge (Prof. O. J.) . ax, 27

Loewy(B.) . . .26

LoFTiE (Mrs, W. J.). . 2

Longfellow (H. W.) . 20

Lonsdale (J.) . . 20, 37

Lowe (W. H.) . . .30

Lowell (J. R.). . 15, 21
LuBBOCKiTSir J.) 6, 8, 2x, 22, 40

Lucas (F.) . . .15
LUPTON (S.) ... 7

Lyall (Sir Alfred) . . 4

Lyte(H. C. M.) . . xo

Lytton (Earl of ) . . 18

MacAlister (D.) . . 23

Macarthur (M.) . . xo

Macaulay (G. C.) . . 36

Maccoll (Norman) . . 14

M'Cosh (Dr. J.) . as, 26

Macdonald (G.) . . 16

INDEX.

43

PAGE
. 29

• 37

• 23
. 23

. 34

• 39
23

Macdoneli. (J.)
Mackail(J« W.)
Mackenzie (Sir Morell)
Maclagan (Dr. T.).
Maclaken CRev. Alex.)
M ACL A REN (Archibald)
Maclean (W. C.) . .,

MACLEAK(Rev.Dr.G.F.) 30,32
M'Lennan (J. F.) . .1
M'Lennan (Malcolm^ . 18
MACMiLLAN(Rev. H.) 22,35,38

5> 15

• 23

, 18

18

39

38
29
18
20

7
4

5
28

28
24

39
28

40

5
5

35
26

Macmillan (Michael)
Macnamara (C.) .
Macquoid (K. S.) .
Madoc (F.)
Maguire(J. F.)
Mahaffy (Prof. J. P.)

2, II, 13, 22, 25, 35,
Maitland (F. W.) . 12,
Malet (L.)
Malory (Sir T.)
Mansfield (C. B.) .
Markham (C. R.) .
Marriott n. A. R.).
Marshall (Prof. A.)
Marshall (M. P) .
Martel (C.) .
Martin (Frances) .
Martin ^Frederick).
Martin (H. N.)
Martineau (H.)
Martineau (J.)
Masson(D.) 4,5,15,16,20,22,26
Masson (G.) . . 7, 20
Masson (R. O.) . . 16
Maturin (Rev. W.) .
Maudsley (Dr. H.) .
Maurice (Fredk.Denison)

8, 22, 25, 30, 31, 32, 35
Maurice (Col. F.) . 5, 24, 29
Max Muller (F.) .
Mayer (A.M.).
Mayor (J. B.) .
Mayor (Prof. J. E. B.)
Mazini (L.)
M'Cormick(W.S.).
Meldola (Prof. R.). 7,
Mendenhall (T. C.)
Mercier (Dr. C.) .
Mercur (Prof. J.) .
Meredith ^G.).
Meredith (L. A.) .
Meyer (E. von)
Miall (A.)
Michelet (M.)
Mill (H. R.) .
Miller (R. K.).
MiLLiGAN (Rev. W.).
Milton . . 13,
MiNCHiN (Prof. G. M.)
MiNTo (Prof. W.) .
Mitford (A. B.)
MiVART(St. George).
Mixter(W.G.)
Mohammad
Molesworth (Mrs.)
MOLLOY (G.) .
Monahan (J. H.) .

MONTBLIUS (O.)

Moore (C. H.).
Moorhousb (Bishop)
MORISON (J*) •
MoRisoN n. C.)
MoRLEY (John). 3, 4,

25
27

31

3, 5
39
13
26, 27
27

23

24

15
12

7

5

II

9

3

35

20

15

[, 18
18
28

7
20

It

12

I
2

35

15

3i4

16, 22

3if

15,

Morris (Mowbray) .
Morris (R.) . . 20,
Morshead (E. D. a.)
moui.ton (l. c.)
Mudie (C. E.) .
Muir(M. M.P.) .
MCller (H.) .

MULLINGER (J. B.) .

Murphy (]. J.).
Murray (D. Christie)
Murray (E. C. G.) .
Myers (E.) . . 15,
Myers (F. W. H.) . 4, 15,
Mylne ^Bishop)
Nadal (E. S.) .
Nettlkship(H.). .
Newcastle (Duke and

Duchess)
Nevvcomb (S.) .
Newton (Sir C.T.).
Nichol (J.)
Noel (Lady A.)
Nordenskiold (A. E.)
NorgAte (Kate)
Norris (W. E.)
Norton ^Charles Eliot)
Norton (Hon. Mrs.)
OLIPHANT(MrS. M. O. W.)
4, II, 13, 19, 20,
Oliphant (T. L. K.)
Oliver f Prof. D.) .
Oliver (Capt. S. P.).
Oman(C.W.) .
Ostwald (Prof.)
Ott6 (E. C.) .
Page (T. E.) .
Palgrave (Sir F.) .
Palgrave (F. T.)

2, 15, 16, 20, 21, 33, 39
Palgrave (R. F. D.)
Palgrave (R. H. Inglis)

page
• 4
25
36
15
15

7
6

II

26
18
38
36
22

35
22

13

20

.•>

2

13
18

38
II
18
3
19

39

25

6

38

4

7
II

31
II

.'5i

'1
22,

29

28

Palgrave (W. G.) 15, 29, 38
Palmer (Lady S.) . . 19
Parker rX. J.). . 6,39
Parker (W. N.) . .40
Parkinson (S.)
Parkman (F.) .
Parsons (Alfred)
Pasteur (L.) .
Pater (W. H.) . 2, 19,
Paterson (J.) .
Patmorb (Coventry) 20,
Patteson (J. C.) .
Pattison (Mark)
Payne (E.J.) .
(C. H.)

4, 5,
10.

27
II

12

7
22

12

39

5

35

29

8,27

• IS

• 25

. 25
2

• 9

• ii3
. 27

6, 28, 40

. 12

• 23

2
. 22
• 23
. 20

• 35

• 37
PoLLOCK(SirFk.^ndBart.) 5
Pollock (Sir F.,Bart.) 12,22,29

Peabody
Peel(E.).
Peile(J.).
Pellissibr (E.)
Pennell(J.) .
Pennington (R.)
Penrose (F.C.)
Perry (Prof. J.)
Pettigrew (J. B.)
Phillimore (JF. G.)
Phillips (J. A.)
Phillips (W. C.)
Picton (J. a.) .

PiFFARD (H. G.)

Plato

Plumptre (Dean)
Pollard (A. W.)

4i

27!

G.)

PAGE

2

2

. 22

. II

20

36
22

35

27
28

22

37
37
32

2

3
7

13

&

3

15
26
27

35
37

7
35

9
35
23

IX

23
12

35

24

5

5

28, 29
6

7

9
19
39

16
7

23-
31

35

29

Ryle (Prof. H. E.) . . 30
St. Johnston (A.) .19, 38, 39
Sadler (H.) . .
Saintsbury (G.) . 4, 13,
Salmon (Rev. G.) . . 35
Sandford (M. E.) . . 5
Sandys (J. E.) . . .38
Sayce (A. H.) . . .IX
Schaff (P.) . . .30-
Schliemann (Dr.) . . 2
Schorlemmer (C.) . . 7
Scott CD. H.) . . .6
Scott (Sir W.) . . 15,20-
Scratchley (Sir Peter) . 24
Scudder (S. H.) . . 40
Seaton (Dr. E. C.) . . 23
Seeley ( J. R. ) . . .11
Seiler (Dr. Carl) . 23, 38
SELBORNE(EarloO i2,2o;32,33.

Sellers (E.) . . . 3
Service (J.) . . 32, 3s

Pollock (Lady)
Pollock (W. H.)
Poole (M. E.) .
Poole (R. L.) .
Pope .
POSTE (E.)
Potter ^L.)
Potter (R.)
Preston (T.) .
Price (L. L. F. R.)
Prickard (A. O.)
Prince Albert Victor
Prince George
Procter (F.) .
Propert (J. L.)
Radcliffe (C. B.)
Ramsay (W.) .
Ransome(C.) .
Rathbone (W.)
Rawlinson (W.G.)
Rawnsley (H. D.)
Ray (P. K.) .
Rayleigh (Lord)
Reichel (Bishop)
Reid (J. S.)
Remsen (L) .
Rendall (Rev. F.)
Rendu (M. leC.)
Reynolds (H. R.)
Reynolds (J. R.)
Reynolds (O.).
Richardson (B. W,
Richey(A. G.).
Robinson fPreb. H
Robinson u. L.)
Robinson (Matdiew)
Rochester (Bishop of)
ROCKSTRO (W. S.) .
Rogers G. E. T.) .11,
Romanes (G. T.)
RoscoE (Sir H. E.) .
Rosenbusch(H.) .
Ross (P.) .
ROSSETTI (C. G.)
Routledge (J.)
RowE (F. J.) .
ROcKER (Prof. A. W.)
Rum FORD (Count) .

RUSHBROOKE (W. G.)

Russell (Dean)
Russell (Sir Charles)
Russell (W. Clark) .
Ryland (F.) .

F.H.E.)

44

INDEX.

Sewell (E. M.)
Shairp (J.C.) .
Shakksi'kakk .
Shann tG.j
Sharp (W.)

Shri.ley ... 15
Shirley (W.N.) .
Shorthoure (J. H.)
Shurtland (Admiral) .
Shuchhardt (Carl).
Shuckburgh (E. S. } II
Shufbldt (R. W.) .
SiBsoN (Dr. F.)
SiDGWiCK (Prof. H.) 26,38

SiME (J.) . . . O

SiMj'ftON (Rev. W.) .
Skkat (W.W.)
Skrine (J. H.).
Slade (J. H.) .
Sloman (Rev. A.) .
Smart (W.)

S.M ALLEY (G. W.)

Smetmam (J.) .
Smith (A.)
Smith (C. B.) .
Smith (Goldwin) . 4
Smith (H.)
Smith (J.)
Smith (Rev. T.)
Smith (W. G.) .
Smith (W. S.) .
Somervillk (Prof. W.)
Southey .
SFfc.NUKK (J. K.)
Spenser .
Spottiswoode (W.).
Stanley (Dean)
Stanley (Hon. Maude)
Statham (R.) .
Stebbing (W.).
Stephen (C. E.)
Stephen (H.) .
Stephen (Sir J. F.) n, i
Stephen (J. K.)
Stephen (L.) .
Stephens (J. B.)
Stevenson (J. J.)
Stewart (A.) . . .39
Stewart (Balfour) 26, 27, 35
Stewart (S. A.) . . 6
Stokes (Sir G. G.) . . 27
Story (R. II.) ... 3
Stone (W. H.). . . 27
Strachey (Sir K.) . . 20
STRACHEY(Gen. R.). . 9
STRANGFORD(Viscountess) 38
Strettell (A.) . . 16
Stubbs (R5V. C. W.). . 35
Stubbs (Bishop) . . 31
Sutherland (A.) . . 9
Symonds (J. A.) . 4

SYMONDS(MrS. J. A.) . 5
SVMONS (A.)^ . . .16
Tait (Archbishop) . . 35
Tait(C.W.A.) . IT

Tait (Prof. P. G.) 26, 27, 35

PAGE
. II

4. »5

13. i5» 20, 21

8, 27

5
21

35

19

24

2

36
40
23
29
10

32

13

15

8

3»
28

22

5
20
16

29
16

6

35
6

35
6

5

23
20
27

35
29
29

4
8

13
22

13

4
16

Tanner (H.^ .
Tavernier (J. B.) .
Taylor (Franklin) .
Taylor (Isaac).
'Iaylor (Sedley)
Tegetmkier (w. B.)
Temple (Bishop)
Temple (Sir R.)
Tennant (Dorothy).
Tfnniel .
Tennyson
Tennyson
Tennyson
Thomi»son

25.

24.

14.
Frederick)
Hallam).
DA.W.)

16,

12,

Thompson (E.).
Thompson (S. P.^
Thomson (A. W.)
Thomson
Thomson

(Sir C. W.)
(Hu)fh)

29

page
I

. 38

• 24

35

27
8

35

4
38
38
21
16

39

6

zo

27
8

40

, , , . . 12

TH0.MS0N (Sir Wm.) 24, 26, 27
Thorne (Dr. Thome) . 23
Thornton (J.). . . 6
Thornton (W. T.) 26,
Thorpe (T. E.X
Thring(E.) .
ThruppO- F.).
Thuuichum (J. L. W.)
Thursfield (J. R.) .
Todhunter (I.)
Torrens (W. M.) .
Toiirgenief (I. S.) .
Tout (T. F.) .
Tozer(H. F.) .
Tkaill (H. D.).
Tkknch (Capt. F.) .
Trench (Archbishop)
Trevelyan (Sir G. O.)
Tribe (A.).
Tristram (W. O.) .
Trollope (A.) .
Truman (J.) .
Tucker (T. G.)
Tulloch (Principal).
Turner (C. Tennyson)
Turner (G.) .
Turner (H. H.)
Turner (J. M.W.) .
Tylor(E. B:;) .
Tyrwhitt (R. St. J.)
Vaughan (C. J.) 31, 32, 35, 36
Vaugha;^ (Rev. D. T.) 20, 36
Vaughan (Rev. E. T.)
Vaughan (Rev. R.) .
Vrley (M.)
Venn (Rev. J.).
VisRNON (Hon. W. W.)
Verrall (A. W.)
Verrall (Mrs.)
Wain (Louis) .
Waldstein (C.)
Walker (Prof. F. A.)
Wallace (A. R.) . 6, 34,
Wallace (Sir D. M.)

37
7
8, 22

30

7

4
5,8

5
19

XI

9
4i 29

29
35
II

7
12

4
16

36

35
16

I

27
la

X

x6

Walpole (S.)
Walton (I.)

. 36
. 36

• 19
26, 36

. 13

13, 36

I

. 39
2

. 38
28
29

29

12

PAGE
13,20
. 6
. 16
. 16

i9»39

5,32

36

28

38

5
38
16.37
39
32
36

24

x6,

2. 1

Ward (A. W.) .
Ward (H. M.) .
Ward(S.).
Ward(T.H.) .
Ward (Mrs. T.H.) .
Ward (W.)
Warington (G.)
Waters (C. A.)
Waterton (Charles)
Watson (E.) .
Watson (R.S.)
Webb(W.T.) .
Webster (Mrs. A.) .

WELBY-GKiiGORY (Ladv)

Welldon (Rev. J. E. C.) . ^ .
Wf.stcott (Bp.) 30, 31, 32, 36
Wester.marck (E.).
Wetherell (J.)
Wheeler (J- T.)
Whewell(W.).
White (C;ilb.»rt)
White (Dr. W. Hale)
White (W.^ .
Whitham (J. M.) .
Whitney (W. D.) .
Whittier (J. G.) .
Wickham (Rev. E. C.)
Wickstekd (P. H.) .
Wif.dersheim (R.) .
Wilbraham (F. M.).
WiLKiNS (Prof. A. S.)
Wilkinson (S.)
Williams (C^. H.) .
WiLLiAV.s (Montagu)
Williams (S. E.)
Willouohby (F.) .
Wills (W. G.) .
Wilson (A.J.) .
Wilson (Sir C.)
Wilson (Sir D.) . i
Wilson (Dr. G.) . 4
Wilson T Archdeacon)
Wilson (Mary).
Wingate (Major F. R.)
Winkworth (C.)
WoLSELEY(Gen. Viscount)
Wood (A. G.) .
Wood (Rev. E. G.) .
Woods (Rev. F. H.).
Woods (Miss M. A.).
Woodward (C. M.) .
woolner (t.) .
Wordsworth . 5,
Worthey (Mrs.) . . 19
Wright (Rev. A.) . . 31
Wright (C. E. G.) . . 8
Wright (J.) . . . 2x
Wright (L.) . . .27
Wright (W. Aldis) 8, 15, 20, 31
WuRTZ (Ad.) ... 7
Wyatt (SirM. D.) . . 2
YoNGE (C. M.) 5, 6, 8, 10, II,

.^ „r ?9, 21, 25, 30, 39
Young (E. W.j . . 8
ZlEGLER (Dr. E.) . . 23

X

25

IZ

5
24
23

27
8
8

2*

36
28, 30

40

32

3.36

24

9

5

13

39

16

29

4

13
22

36

13

24

5

24

16

36

z

6,33
8

16

14, 16, 2X

3,

5,

kt

MACMILLAN AND CO.

BEDFORD STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LOl^DON.

r/jo/io/91

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4