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Updated: June 15, 2025
Of course it was very ridiculous of him to worry himself into such a state, but then, reader, he had been working just a little too hard, and it was hardly his fault if he was ridiculous. Wraysford, though by no means in high spirits, kept his head a good deal better, and tried to enjoy his walk and forget all about books, as if nothing at all was going to happen to-morrow.
Help was at hand, or he could never have reached the bank. As it was, when at last friendly arms did drag him ashore, he was too exhausted even to utter his brother's name. Where was Stephen? and where was Wraysford? Wraysford had been more fortunate even than Oliver in his first capsize.
But the old trouble, for the present at any rate, was destined to swamp all other emotions. Oliver continued reading: "Christmas will not be so very long now in coming. We must have a real snug, old-fashioned time of it here. Uncle Henry has promised to come, and your cousins. It would be nice if you could persuade Mr Wraysford to come here then. I am so anxious to see him again.
He was out with you, wasn't he, all the afternoon?" "No," said Wraysford, not looking up, "he had a headache and stayed in." Pembury gave a low whistle of dismay. "I say, Wray," said he, presently, "it really does look bad, don't you think so yourself?" "I don't know what to think," said Wraysford, with a groan; "I'm quite bewildered."
A few only come to it, and nothing interferes with music like a poor audience. As to the charade, it is abandoned at the last moment. Then a great many mothers and aunts make the discovery that there is an evening train from Maltby; and having made it, act upon it; and the tide of emigration sets out forthwith. Among the first to depart is Wraysford.
I wish you success, Wraysford;" and so saying, the good old gentleman bobs affably, and Wraysford, amid another tempest of applause, bows too, and takes off his prize. The examiners report that his answers to the questions on the paper deserve the greatest credit. I will say only this before his face: Nightingale Scholarship Greenfield senior."
Who could have believed that those three friends who only a month or two ago were quoted all over Saint Dominic's as inseparables could ever meet and pass one another as these three met and passed one another now? Wraysford coloured as he caught sight of his old ally, and looked another way.
He kept his eyes steadily fixed on the paper in the head master's hand, as if waiting for what was to follow. The Doctor went on, "Second, Wraysford, Fifth Form, 97 marks, also a creditable performance."
"Oh, you fellows," began Loman, feeling not quite so confident now as he had felt five minutes ago, "we can't have that thing of yours hanging out in the passage like that. It makes a crowd too much row. Whose is it?" "Not mine," said Wraysford, laughing; "ask Bully perhaps it's his." "Not a bit of it," said Bullinger; "it's yours, isn't it, Simon?"
He only runs a short way. Then he slackens pace. Wraysford rushes forward in front, the pursuing host rush on behind, but every one sees how it will be. The fellow takes a deliberate drop-kick at the goal, and up flies the ball as true as a rocket, clean over the posts, as certain a goal as Saint Dominic's ever lost!
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