him to Coventry!'

To send a boy to Coventry required united action on the part of the whole school, but Leonard Morrison and Taylor, with one or two of their friends, did not despair of persuading their class-mates to follow their example. Of course the boys in the lower classes might speak an occasional word, and the seniors in the upper form might have occasion to do the same, but the classes in this school were large and practically self-contained, so that they had little to do with those in the upper or junior classes; it was therefore comparatively easy for the leading spirits to persuade or compel the rest to follow their lead, whatever it might be.

So the day following the talk between the brother and sister, Horace Howard found himself sent to Coventry, as his foes had decreed. As he was a quiet, studious lad, he did not notice this at first, but by degrees it impressed itself upon him that no one had asked him a question all day, or even told him that he must not do this or that. He felt vaguely uncomfortable before he set off on his long walk home; and when he found that several of his schoolfellows, who had previously talked to him as they walked part of the way together, ran off as soon as the gate was passed, his heart sank within him, and he wondered what he could have done to bring this punishment upon himself.

But, whatever he might feel, he determined not to let his mother know anything about it, and so he went into the little room where she sat at work, whistling cheerily as usual.

'Stitch, stitch, stitch,' he said, as his mother looked up from her work for the accustomed kiss.

'You're earlier to-night, dear,' said Mrs. Howard, as she laid aside her work and drew the tea-tray close to her.

'I suppose I walked a bit faster, and didn't gossip quite so much,' said the lad, and he had to strangle a sigh as he spoke, lest his mother should detect it.

'Are you hungry, my boy?' said his mother as he hung up his cap.

'Not very,' answered Horace, for he knew by this time that it was inconvenient for him to have a large appetite, and so he was learning to regulate it by the state of their finances.

'You went in your old jacket again to-day, Horace,' she remarked as she set his dinner before him, for he took his mid-day meal with him to school.

'Yes, I wore my old jacket. Why not?' said Horace. 'You mended it up so nicely that it was a pity not to give it another turn and save the other. Jackets can't be picked up in the street, you know; and though we may sometimes pick wool off the hedges, it isn't woven and made up into boys' jackets.'

Horace talked on in this strain, to prevent his mother from asking questions as to how he had got on at school during the day, for Mrs. Howard knew something of the ways of boys, and was terribly afraid lest some of her son's schoolfellows should find out something of their circumstances, and not treat Horace as they would an equal.

Nothing but the lad's love of science and her desire to give him an education that would fit him to make use of this talent, had made her willing to consent that he should compete for a scholarship that would enable him to do this. It was the first time, she knew, that a boy from the board school had ever been admitted to this exclusive grammar school known as 'Torrington's'; and she had watched anxiously each day, to find out whether the lads were treating their poorer companion kindly and courteously, and thus far she had been perfectly satisfied.

Her elder son was as anxious as she was that Horace should have all the advantages a good education could give, but he was opposed to his brother going to Torrington's.

'I am only a carpenter,' he said, 'and never want to be anything better, but it won't suit those boys to hear that one of their schoolfellows has a brother who is a common working man.'

'You are not a common working man, Fred,' said his mother quickly.

'Not to you, perhaps, mother mine, but I want you to look at things as the world does. I do common work—carpenter's work, and am glad to get the chance of doing it, and to help you and Horace. Here we can only be common working people—you sewing for the shops and I working for a builder. That is all the people know, and all we want them to know, and I wish Horace could have been a carpenter too.'

'Perhaps it would have been as well,' said his mother with a sigh.

'I am sure it would. We agreed to come here and leave the whole miserable past behind.'

'It is left behind,' interrupted his mother quickly.

'Ah, yes, we have done our best; but who knows what questions may be asked, now Horace has gone to that school? Boys are often curious in their inquiries, and it is not as though——'

'Fred, Fred, we must leave these things in the hand of God, and be content to take one step at a time. I could not, in fairness to Horace, let him throw away this opportunity of getting a good education that will fit him to use the gifts which I believe God has given him.'

This conversation had taken place at dinner-time that very day, and Mrs. Howard was thinking of it as she watched Horace eat his dinner.

The boy knew that his mother's eyes were upon him, and he was the more anxious to guard his secret, and so he rattled on until his mother forgot her fears, and thought Fred was making himself anxious without the slightest shadow of cause.

CHAPTER II.

Sending Him to Coventry.

Horace Howard sat longer over his lessons that night, and was quite undisturbed by any talking with his mother and brother, and when the time came for him to put the lessons aside and go to bed, he knew he had only half mastered them, for his thoughts had wandered continually from the subject of the lesson before him to the events of his day at school, trying to discover what he had done to offend his schoolfellows, that they should all at once send him to Coventry in this fashion. The study of mathematics, French, chemistry, and physics did not help him to the solution of this problem; but the school mystery greatly hindered the other subjects from becoming clear to his mind, and when he took his place in class the next morning he knew it would be a bad day for him with his class-work.

It was worse even than he feared, and as he lost place after place, and went down at last even below the dunces of the form, it hurt him more to see how gleeful the other boys were over his mistakes than to lose his place in the class.

At last, when Horace had blundered worse than usual over some lesson, the master said, 'What is the matter with you to-day, Howard? Are you ill? Have you got a headache?'

'No, sir,' answered Horace, for he was a truthful lad, and could not avail himself of the excuse the master had thus offered him.

'You could not have prepared your lessons last night, then; you know the rule about this, don't you?' said the master sternly.

'Yes, sir; I studied my lessons for more than two hours last night,' said Horace, reddening and growing more confused, for he knew all the class were staring at him, and, as he fancied, glorying in his discomfiture. In this he was not far wrong; but there were one or two who pitied him in his various dilemmas, and would have broken that ban of silence that had been decreed against him, but the leaders kept their eyes upon them, and they would not venture to brave the displeasure of their elders.

Altogether it was a cruelly hard day for Horace, and he felt strongly inclined to say when he went home, that he would never go