Rose always took in Eric, I gave him
a copy of these verses when last I visited him at his pleasant vicarage
of Seaford, to which he was presented a year or two ago by Dr. Rowlands,
now Bishop of Roslyn, who has also appointed him examining chaplain. I
sat and watched Mr. Rose while he read them. A mournful interest was
depicted on his face, his hand trembled a little, and I fancied that he
bent his grey hair over the paper to hide a tear. We always knew at
school that Eric was one of his greatest favorites, as indeed he and
Vernon were with all of us; and when the unhappy boy had run away
without even having the opportunity for bidding any one farewell, Mr.
Rose displayed such real grief, that for weeks he was like a man who
went mourning for a son. After those summer holidays, when we returned
to school, Montagu and Wildney brought back with them the intelligence
of Eric's return to Fairholm, and of his death. The news plunged many of
us in sorrow, and when, on the first Sunday in chapel, Mr.
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