"Modest Eric!" said Wildney chaffingly, "you don't acknowledge your
honors."
Eric dropped his bat in the corner, put his coat across his arm, and
walked away. As he passed Wildney, he stooped down and whispered again
in a low voice--
"'The curse has come upon me, cried
The Lady of Shallott.'"
"Hush, Eric, nonsense," whispered Wildney; "you're not going away," he
continued aloud, as Eric turned towards the school. "Why, there are only
two more to go in!"
"Yes, thank you, I must go."
"Oh, then, I'll come too."
Wildney at once joined his friend. "There's nothing more the matter, is
there?" he asked anxiously, when they were out of hearing of the rest.
"God only knows."
"Well, let's change the subject. You've being playing brilliantly, old
fellow."
"Have I?"
"I should just think so, only you got out in rather a stupid way."
"Ah well! it matters very little."
Just at this moment one of the servants handed Eric a kind note from
Mrs. Rowlands, with whom he was a very great favorite, asking him to tea
that night.
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