without much effect, and the assaulted athlete touched the place with a comical expression of astonishment. Then he strode forward towards his opponent, who faced him fiercely with wild eyes and trembling limbs. Then he stopped, looked at Dale curiously, and then he burst out laughing. There was a murmur of applause from the lower boys. After all, he was a hero, a real swell. Kerisen took advantage of the moment. Rising with easy grace, as if to be rid of a tedious business, he laid his hand on his friend's big shoulder, and said, "Don't let us have a row in the House. You fellows don't mean any harm. No doubt, you will all be Captains of the House some day, and a horrid bore you will find it." Here there was a general laugh, which proved the crisis over. "As to these rules," the Captain went on, with a faint smile, "you had better leave the management of the library to us, who know all about it. It is no great pleasure. If this will suit you, we will abolish Rule V." This statement was received with general applause. An exclamation of Loyd was checked by the pressure of the hand on his shoulder. Dale was sitting in a chair very pale, and unable to speak. The majority, who were not quite clear about the right of suffrage, believed that

they had got all which they wanted. The Captain knew that order could be enforced without a written statement that it would be. All parties appeared satisfied, and the great library row was at an end. When the boys talked it over afterwards, most of them agreed that Dale had made a mess of the affair, and that it was doubtful whether even a member of Parliament would have spoken better than Kerisen.

As Dale was sitting weary and dispirited in his room on the day following the crisis, his cousin came in, bright and happy. It often seemed to Dale that Harefel brought with him sunlight and pleasant thoughts.

"Old Loyd has been so awfully jolly," he said; "he came and begged my pardon about yesterday." "It was very good of him not to kill me," said Irvine, gloomily.

"He told me to tell you that he takes a licking," said Ned, laughing. "I am glad it is all well over. Loyd says that the House must pull together; and I think he is right. Don't you?"

Dale made no answer, but looked up with a faint smile, remembering Sir Joseph's trust in phrases. Harefel had something more to say-something which was hard to express. He stood awkwardly,

and looked away from his cousin. He put his hand in his pocket, and took it out. He pulled a cap off the door, and hung it up again. Then he cleared his throat, and swinging round suddenly, laid his hands on Dale's shoulders, and looked down into his face.

"I want to say, old fellow, that I shall never forget how you stood up for me."

Dale was strangely moved. He looked up at his cousin with swimming eyes.

"I would do anything in the world for you," he said.

46

CHAPTER V.

THE LITTLE VICTIMS PLAY."

THE friendship of Dale and Harefel grew with their growth. Life went by full of play and work, and before they had realised that boyhood could ever end, they were almost men. But though the Eton world was full of bustle and pleasure, Dale often went apart to think of it and of his part in it. Indeed, but for his cousin's unfailing pleasantness and quickening influence, he might have turned from his fellows in petulant scorn or cold contempt, or have slowly drifted away from them in proud shyness. Very few boys have time enough to dissipate a companion's reserve; but Harefel came like a young David of fair countenance, and brought kindness and harmony into the tent, where Dale was sulking. Dale liked Harefel: so he liked his troop of friends, because they liked Harefel; and

so by degrees he grew fond of many of them for their own sake. He enjoyed the feeling of fellowship; his school-work became less distasteful, because his friends were doing the same; he threw himself more eagerly into the games, tasting the new delight of thoughtlessness, or bending his whole soul to desire of victory for the House. So it came to pass that in the eyes of most of his companions he appeared a good sort of fellow, seeking honour in the usual paths, and not much more wayward than other boys. His occasional fancies for solitude were dismissed as sulks, and his reading of strange books was half resented as affectation. In short, he was an odd sort of fellow, but not so bad. Of course he was not to be compared with his cousin. Everybody liked Harefel, and he liked everybody. He was almost incapable of suspicion, and would scarcely believe his own eyes, if they bore witness to the faults of a friend. His gaiety never made him unkind; and his serious moods could always be banished by a word. He lived every moment, doing his work easily and well, and

enjoying all sport and fun.

When he thought

about his pleasant life, which was not often, he

generally thought how much it was

deepened and

enriched by his friendship for Dale. But for Dale,