He mixed me something in a glass and I drank it. Uncle George came over and began to ask questions, but the doctor pulled him away. “Leave him to go to sleep now: he’ll be better able to talk in the morning. It might have been a nasty thing. I’ll look in to-morrow.” I had closed my eyes, and when I opened them again I was alone and in the dark. A ray of moonlight floated through the window and lay across the floor where George’s bed had been, but the bed itself was gone, and I wondered languidly how they had been able to take it away without my hearing anything. In spite of an abominable headache I felt drowsy――perhaps it was the effect of whatever drug I had taken――and I must very soon have lost consciousness. The first person I saw in the morning was Uncle George, who carried me in my breakfast. My head still ached, though not nearly so violently. While I drank a cup of tea Uncle George sat in silence, his eyes fixed on me, with an expression of anxiety that was almost comic. As for me, I felt better, and, when Uncle George had removed the tray, I allowed him to tell me how sorry he was, but without replying or giving him any encouragement. I could see he was dying for me to say something, but I thought a little suspense would not do him any harm, so I maintained a discreet quiet. Secretly I was glad, for this disagreeable adventure gave me just what I had needed, but I was far from letting Uncle George know that. “She wasn’t responsible,” said Uncle George, dejectedly, and plunging straight to the heart of the subject. “You know she has to take drugs sometimes on account of the pain she suffers, and they have an effect upon her. I tell you this in confidence, and that last night she had taken more than she intended to, and didn’t really know what she was doin’. But you must forgive her, Peter. And then she is jealous of you――I may as well tell you everything――she is jealous when she thinks of the difference between you and George, and that you will be a gentleman, while George and the others’ll have to get along as best they can――and times are so bad, and there’s so few openings for lads nowadays. This drug she had taken――――” He stopped and his eyes fastened on mine appealingly. “What do you want me to do?” I asked, smoothing down the sheet. Uncle George moved nervously in his chair, but did not reply. “I’m going home to-day,” I went on. “Home? You’ll be waiting for a day or two――till you get quit of this pain in your head, won’t you? And then there’s your examination! Will they take marks off if you get a doctor’s certificate?” “A certificate for what?” “That you can’t go in for the examination.” “I’m going in for the exam. And I’m certainly going home.” Uncle George, who had never ventured to remonstrate with me on any subject whatever since my arrival, and who treated me as, if anything, slightly older than himself, did not begin now. “And what will you tell them?” was all he asked.