“Poor kid!” he thought, and his eyes filled with tears. He had seen unhappiness before, in his own home, and the memory of it was bitter. Here at school he had forgotten it all; the world had seemed a bright and a happy place, and he was happy in it. Poor Finch brought back to him intensely the realization that life was not altogether as free from care, as full of affection and kindness and joy, as this gay scene and jubilant celebration would indicate. There was bitterness in the thought, and yet, in a way, he was not sorry it had come. It seemed to him now that for the last few days he had been absolutely absorbed in himself, in fact that he had been living self-absorbed for a long time; that despite his generous words from the rostrum, what he had really been glad of in the victory was, that it had been so largely due to him. Suddenly he gave the tree against which he was standing a vigorous kick. What a fool he was! to be silly with delight at winning a football game when just across the hall from him there lived such livid boyish misery! At length he resought his companions, and when at last the celebration was over, and the great blazing pile of the bonfire had collapsed, he walked back again with Kit’s party to the Inn. Both Betty and he were quieter now than before. She was shy again, and this time he could think of nothing to say. Their commonplaces about the celebration fell flat. “You are going to-morrow?” he asked abruptly, as they turned into the grounds of the Inn. “Yes,” she answered, “quite early. Bab and I are at school too, you know?” “Yes, I know. I wish I could see you sometimes....” “Well, can’t you?... You’ll be coming home with Kit some holiday.” “Perhaps I will. I hope so.” He was silent for a moment, then with a strange shyness, he said, “Will you—will you give me those violets?” Betty was silent. She hesitated for a moment, then unpinned the violets from her dress, and gave them to him. Their hands met in the dark, and fluttered in a little clasp for the moment. Then Tony slipped the violets into his pocket. They were at the Inn steps, and to the surprise of all, he declined to come in, but bade them good-bye there.