Lover or Friend. Rosa Nouchette Carey

must be your seat when you come to see us,' observed Mollie affectionately. 'Mamma was only saying this morning that she had taken a fancy to you, and hoped you would come very often; and Kester said he hoped so, too, because you were so very kind.'

      'Did you have many friends at Headingly?' asked Audrey absently.

      She was wondering to whom Kester was talking. She could hear his voice through the open window; it sounded bright and animated. It could not possibly be his brother; Mr. Blake would be with the boys on the cricket-field. Perhaps Mrs. Blake had returned from town.

      'We had no friends at all,' returned Mollie disconsolately; 'at least, no real friends. People just called on us and left their cards. Mrs. Bryce was very kind to Kester, but mamma never got on with her. We none of us liked Headingly much, except Cyril. Everyone was nice to him, but when mamma fretted and said she was miserable, and that no one in the place cared for her, he seemed to lose interest, too; and when this vacancy occurred, he just said he had had enough of it, and that mamma would be happier in a fresh place, and so we came here, and now we have found you;' and Mollie's brown eyes were very soft as she spoke.

      'Oh, you will find plenty of people to like at Rutherford,' replied Audrey. 'You have not seen my mother yet, Mollie; she is so good to everyone, and so is father. And then there is my cousin, Captain Burnett, who half lives with us; he is one of the nicest men possible.'

      But as Audrey spoke, she had no idea that Michael was that minute talking to Kester. It fell out in this way: Michael found it slow on the cricket-field without Audrey; so many people came up and talked to him that he got quite bored. Captain Burnett was a general favourite with men as well as women; he had the reputation of being a hero: women pitied him for his ill-health and misfortunes, and men admired him for the cheerful pluck with which he endured them.

      'Burnett is a pleasant fellow and a gentleman,' was one observation. 'Perhaps he is a bit solemn at times, but I fancy that confounded wound of his gives him trouble. Anyhow, he never plagues other people with his ailments. "Grin and bear it"—I fancy that is Burnett's motto.'

      Michael found the cricket-field dull without Audrey's liveliness to give zest to the afternoon; she always took people away when he was tired. He had had enough of it long before the match was over. Just as he was sauntering homewards he encountered Mr. Blake, and in the course of brief conversation he learnt that Mrs. Blake was in town.

      Michael thought he would call and see if Audrey were ready to come home—it would do no harm to inquire at the door; but Biddy, who was scouring the doorsteps, told him abruptly to step in and he would find the lady; and, half amused at his own coolness, he, nothing loath, accepted the invitation.

      He found Kester alone in the dining-room busy over his lessons. He looked up in some astonishment at the sight of a strange gentleman, and Zack, the retriever, growled rather inhospitably at Booty. Perhaps the Dachs-hund's short legs affronted him.

      'Am I disturbing you?' asked Michael in his most genial manner. And he looked at the boy's pale intelligent face with much interest. 'I have come to see after my cousin, Miss Ross. Is she anywhere about? My name is Captain Burnett.'

      'Oh, I know,' returned Kester, flushing a little nervously under the scrutiny of those keen blue eyes; 'Cyril told us about you. Miss Ross is upstairs with Mollie; they are putting the drawing-room to rights, but they will be down to tea presently. Will you sit down,' still more nervously, 'or shall I call Mollie?'

      'No, no; there is no hurry, unless I am interrupting you,' with a glance at Kester's books. 'You are doing Greek, eh?'

      'Yes, I am getting ready for Cyril this evening; but I am too tired to do more.'

      And Kester pushed away his papers with a movement that betrayed latent irritability. Michael knew that sign of weakness well.

      'That is right; shut up your books,' he said with ready kindness. 'Never work when you are tired: it is bad economy; it is using up one's stock of fuel too recklessly—lighting a furnace to cook a potato. The results are not worth it. Tired work is bad work—I have proved it.'

      'I am generally tired,' returned Kester with a sigh. And it was sad to see the gravity that crept over the young face. 'It does not do to think too much of one's feelings; one has just to bear it, you know. I am ignorant enough as it is, and I must learn; I will learn!' setting his teeth hard.

      Michael shot a quick glance at the lad; then he turned over the leaves of the book next him for a moment in silence.

      'I must know more of this fellow,' he thought; 'Audrey is right; she is generally right about people.' Then in his ordinary quiet tone:

      'I wonder your brother finds time for private tuition. I live at the lower school, you know, and so I understand all about the junior master's work. Mr. Blake has his evenings free generally, but there is dormitory work and——'

      'Cyril says he will always give me an hour and a half,' interrupted Kester eagerly. 'Of course, it is not good for him to have any more teaching; but he says he would hate to see me grow up a dunce—and—and'—swallowing down some secret emotion—' I think it would break my heart not to know things.'

      'And you want to be a classical scholar?' in the same grave tones.

      'I want to learn everything;' and here there was a sudden kindling in the boy's eyes. 'I must do something, and my lameness hinders everything but that—perhaps, if I learn plenty of Latin and Greek, I may be able to help Cyril one day. We often talk about it, and even mother thinks it is a good plan. One day Cyril hopes to have a school of his own—when he is older, you know—and then I could take the younger boys off his hands and save him the cost of an usher; don't you think that would be possible?' looking anxiously at Michael, for somehow those steady clear eyes seemed so thoroughly to comprehend him.

      'I think it an excellent plan,' retained Michael slowly; "knowledge is power"—we all know that. Do you know,' drawling out his words a little, 'that I have been working at Greek, too, for the last two years? I took it up as a sort of amusement when I was seedy; it would not be bad fun to work together sometimes. I daresay you are ahead of me in Greek, but I don't believe you could beat me in mathematics. We could help each other, and it would be good practice. I suppose your brother gives you lessons in mathematics.'

      Kester shook his head.

      'There is not time for everything, and Cyril always says mathematics are not in his line—he is a classical master, you see.'

      'Oh yes, that is easily understood; but you can have more than one master. Come, shall we make a bargain? Will you read Greek with me? and I will give you an hour three times a week for mathematics, or anything else you like. I am an idle man, and any fixed occupation would be a boon to me.'

      'Do you mean it?' was the breathless answer; and then he added, a little shyly: 'I am awfully obliged; I should like it of all things; but you are not strong, are you?—Miss Ross told us so.'

      'Not particularly; I was rather knocked about by the Zulus, you know, and my leg gives me a good deal of trouble. I am pretty heavily handicapped—we are both in the same boat, are we not?—but we may as well make a fight for it.'

      'Someone told me,' returned Kester, in a tone of great awe, 'that you have the Victoria Cross, Captain Burnett.'

      Michael nodded; he never cared to be questioned on the subject.

      'Will you let Mollie and me see it one day?' half whispered the boy. 'I hope you don't mind my asking you, but I have always so wanted to see it. I am afraid you won't tell us all about it, but I should dearly love to hear.'

      No one had ever induced Michael to tell that story; the merest allusion to his gallantry always froze him up in a moment—even Dr. Ross, who was his nearest confidant, had never heard the recital from his own lips. But for once Michael let himself be persuaded; Kester's boyish eagerness prevailed, and, to his own surprise, Michael found himself giving the terrible details in a cool, business-like manner.

      No wonder Kester forgot the time as he listened; the lad's sensitive frame