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During this conversation, Dr. Rowlands came in with Mr. Rose. He read the paper, frowned, pondered a moment, and then said to Mr. Rose "Would you kindly summon the lower school into the hall? As it would be painful to Mr. Gordon to be present, you had better explain to him how matters stand." "Halloa! here's a rumpus!" whispered Montagu; "he never has the lower school down for nothing."
Mr Walcot was appointed to hand Margaret in; but he showed, amidst great simplicity, an entire determination to be Sophia's companion. Hope was approaching Maria's seat, to give her his arm, when some bustle was heard at the gate where the little Rowlands were clustered. "There is my partner! He will go with us, after all," said Mr Grey. "Come, my dear sir, we have plenty of room."
The Rowlands gave a dinner to introduce Mr Walcot to more and more of their country neighbours; and the Greys had a dance in the green walk for the young people of the village.
There was a subdued titter from the adjacent beds. "Silence!" cried Mr. Rowlands. "So you're responsible for this noise and disorder, Fenleigh? If you want to perform as a clown, you had better leave school and join a circus. At nine o'clock to-morrow you will come with me to the headmaster's study."
The announcement of it caused an uneasy sensation, which was evident to all present, though no one spoke a word; but Dr. Rowlands took no notice of it, and only said to the culprits "You may return to your seats." The two boys found their way back instinctively, they hardly knew how. They seemed confounded and thunderstruck by their sentence, and the painful accessories of its publicity.
"I did," he answered. "You did!" exclaimed Mr. Rowlands wrathfully. "What are you thinking of, sir? I've spoken to you four times to-day already. I don't know if you were accustomed to behave in this manner at the last school you were at, but let me tell you " "Please, sir," interrupted Pilson plaintively, "they've burnt a hole in my back!" At this announcement the class exploded.
'Oh! I am thinking of your Rowlands and my Howels, so different! said the wretched mother; 'he to be beginning life so rich, and your son with nothing; and now! oh, anwyl! oh, anwyl! 'Come with me, cousin 'Lizbeth, said Mrs Prothero kindly; 'come upstairs, and I will make you some tea, and then Owen shall send you home.
"Then you must sit down here, and write an apology, which I shall make you read aloud before the whole school at twelve to-day." Eric, with trembling hand, wrote his apology, and Dr Rowlands glanced at it. "Come to me again at twelve," he said. At twelve all the school were assembled, and Eric, pale and miserable, followed the Doctor into the great school-room.
At last, by a spasmodic effort, he regained his voice, and read, but in so low and nervous a tone, that not even those nearest him heard what he was saying. Dr. Rowlands took the paper from him. "Owing," he said, "to a very natural and pardonable emotion, the apology has been read in such a way that you could not have understood it. I will therefore read it myself. It is to this effect
The little Rowlands the younger ones seem simple enough; but Matilda, what a disagreeable child she is!" "The most that can be done with her is to leave her only a poor creature to strip her of the conceit and malice with which her mother would overlay her feeble intellect.
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