those who had won it before him; he almost knew by heart the list of Clerkland scholars; and when he returned to Camford, constantly discussed the chances of success in favour of the different candidates. Do not blame him; his motives were all high and blameless, although he at length turned over this thought so often in his mind as to recur to it with almost selfish iteration, and to regard success in this particular struggle as the one thing wanting to complete, or even to create his happiness. He could not refrain from mentioning it at home, although, for the sake of preventing disappointment, he generally avoided dwelling on any of his school or college struggles. Deprecating his own abilities, it made him doubly anxious to find that not only did his Saint Werner's contemporaries regard him as the favourite candidate, and bet upon him in the sporting circles, (although Brogten furiously took the largest odds against him), but, what was worse, his own family, always proud of him, seemed to regard his triumph as certain. Thus circumstanced, and most fondly avoiding every possibility of causing pain or disappointment to that thrice-loved circle, of which he regarded himself as the natural protector and head, he was more than ever determined to do his very utmost to prevent failure, and give them the lasting pride and pleasure which they would all receive by seeing his name in the public papers as Clerkland scholar. "Come, Julian, and let's have a row or a sail," said Cyril one morning to him, as he sat at work. "Frank and I have nothing to do to-day." "Not to-day, Cyril, my boy. I really must do some work; you know De Vayne made me ride with him yesterday, and I've done very little the last day or two." "I wish I liked work as you do, Julian." "It isn't only that I like work, (though I do)," said Julian; "but you know a good deal depends on it." "Oh! I know!" said Cyril; "you mean the Clerkland scholarship; but never mind, Julian, Lord De Vayne told me you were sure of that." "Did he?" said Julian, a little anxiously; "then for goodness' sake, don't believe him. It's very kind of him to say so--but he's quite mistaken." "Ah, you always say so beforehand, you know. You used to say that about the Harton scholarship, Julian, and yet you see? Do come." "Well, I'll come," said Julian, smiling a little sadly. "But, Cyril, don't, pray, say anything of that kind to mother or to Violet, for if I should fail it would make me doubly sad." Cyril, thanking Julian, and still laughingly prophesying success, ran out to tell Frank; and, when he had gone, Julian stamped his foot passionately on the ground, and said half-aloud, "I _will_ get this Clerkland, I _will_ get it, I _must_ get it."