She had taken the medal in her hand, and was looking at it. The rest pressed round as closely as they dared. Lewis only stood aside, a bitter expression on his ugly lips. A little fellow ran up, all in a fright. "Oh! if you please, if you please, Miss Beauclerc, here comes the dean." "What if he does?" retorted Miss Beauclerc; "he won't eat you. There, you may go, boys. Henry Arkell, you know you are expected at the deanery to-night." "Yes, thank you, Miss Beauclerc," he replied, some hesitation, or surprise, visible in his tone. "Ah, but I mean to _us_, after the dinner. Mamma has what she calls one of her quiet soirées. You'll be sure to come." One glance from his brilliant eyes, beneath which her blue ones fell, and he drew away. The rest were already off. Georgina walked forward to meet the dean, and she put her arm within his in her loving manner. "Oh, papa, the boys are so envious of the medal. I stopped them and made them show it me. That ugly Lewis is ready to cut his throat." "Random-spoken as usual, my darling. Who's throat?" "Henry Arkell's of course, papa. But I knew no one else would gain it. They are not fit to tie his shoes." "In learning, they certainly are not. You can't imagine what a ludicrous display we have had! And some of them go soon to the university!" "It's not the fault of the boys, papa. If they are never taught anything but Greek and Latin, how can they be expected to know anything else?" "Very true, Georgie," mused Dr. Beauclerc. "Some of these old systems are stupid things." The audit dinner in the evening went off as those dinners generally did. The boys dined at a table by themselves, and Henry, as their senior, had to exert firm authority over some, for the supply of wine was unlimited. Later in the evening, he passed through the gallery to the drawing-room, as invited by Miss Beauclerc. A few ladies were assembled: the canons' wives and daughters, Mrs. Wilberforce, and two or three other inhabitants of the Grounds; all very quiet, and what in these later days might have been called "slow:" Mrs. Beauclerc's parties mostly were so. They were talking of Frederick St. John when Henry went in, who was again absent from Westerbury, visiting somewhere with his mother and Lady Anne. Henry wore his medal; the broad blue ribbon conspicuous. Some time was taken up examining that, and then he was asked to sing. It was a treat to hear him; and his voice as yet gave forth no token of losing its power and sweetness, though he was close upon sixteen.