Gerald uttered a wrathful ejaculation, and turning on his heel walked off with his head held very high, and his heart full of feelings of resentment and anger. How he hated Gilbert Mickle for his interference. No thought of his sin in wilfully deceiving his sister entered his mind; no sense of the wickedness of disobedience troubled him. His conscience had pricked him when he had first begun to deviate from the straight path of truth; but by slow degrees it had been successfully silenced, and now it only troubled him occasionally. Gilbert Mickle returned home in any thing but a tranquil frame of mind. He felt certain that Gerald's acquaintance with Reginald Hope was leading him into evil ways, and he knew that Gerald's relations were utterly unconscious of the fact. Ought he to tell them? That was the question which troubled him and brought a cloud of anxiety to his face. Indecision is always painful; and Mrs. Mickle, who was alone in the sitting-room on his return, was much struck by the troubled expression on his countenance. He generally came home in good spirits from Haresdown House. She told him she had been shopping with his sisters, and then inquired how he had got on with his drawing lesson that afternoon. "Very well, mother," he replied. "I enjoyed it as I always do; and Mr. Willis says I am making good progress." "But something is amiss! What has gone wrong? Nothing about Tom, I hope?" "Oh, no, no! It's nothing to do with us, really, but—well, you know, mother, I don't usually interfere with other people's business, but I like Mr. Willis and Mr. Bailey so much, and the girls are fond of Angel—in short, it's about Gerald I'm bothered. I believe if he isn't stopped he'll be ruined." "What do you mean, Gilbert? Ruined? How?" He proceeded to explain at some length how Gerald's spare time was spent mostly in the company of Reginald Hope and his friends; and how Gerald had deliberately lied to his sister that afternoon, to all of which Mrs. Mickle listened in dismayed silence. "What makes you have such a bad opinion of Reginald Hope?" she asked, when her son had finished his tale. "Of course, I know his father indulges him, and allows him to have his own way; but is there any real harm in him?" "He will tell any lie if it suits his purpose, and he has such a plausible tongue that he would easily dupe a youngster like Willis. Then, he bets and gambles." "Bets! gambles!" Mrs. Mickle echoed in accents of intense astonishment. "Impossible! You must be mistaken, Gilbert, surely." "No, mother, I'm not. Tom knows it too. A great deal of betting and gambling goes on amongst a certain set of the Grammar School boys on the sly; and I believe Hope is one of the ringleaders. I can't prove it, but I know it's true, nevertheless. There would be an awful row if it was found out." "Oh, Gilbert, you surprise and distress me. The masters cannot be aware of anything of the kind?"