"
Eric thought of Fairholm, and of his own far-distant parents, and of the
pang which _his_ disgrace would cause their loving hearts; but he could
say nothing, and only stroked Wildney's dark hair again and again with
a soothing hand.
They sat there long, hardly knowing how the time passed; Eric could not
help thinking how very, very different their relative positions might
have been; how, while he might have been aiding and ennobling the young
boy beside him, he had alternately led and followed him into wickedness
and disgrace. His heart was full of misery and bitterness, and he felt
almost indifferent to all the future, and weary of his life.
A loud knocking at the door disturbed them. It was Carter, the school
servant.
"You must pack up to go this evening, young gentlemen."
"O no! no! no!" exclaimed Wildney; "_cannot_ be sent away like this. It
would break my father's heart. Eric, _do_ come and entreat Dr. Rowlands
to forgive us only this once."
"Yes," said Eric, starting up with sudden energy; "he _shall_ forgive
us--_you_ at any rate.
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