A few days passed on without explosion. The boys met in secret knots to take counsel, and felt half paralysed at their own audacious words. They talked of mutiny, if Paradyne were allowed to go up for the Orville; they whispered of rebellion, if subjected longer to the authority of a master so ill-doing as Mr. Henry. _But they did nothing_. Not one would undertake the responsibility of commencing hostilities, or of speaking to the Head Master: it was a practical illustration of the old fable of the mice proposing to put the bell on the eat. And November was close at hand. The rumours, connecting Mr. Henry's name with Miss Paradyne were by no means pleasant rumours; not tending to exalt either of them in public opinion. When a young lady could be guilty of stealing evening walks with a school usher, and very familiar walks indeed—as Mr. Lamb could testify on Trace's private authority, and _did_, turning up the whites of his eyes—of course there was no more to be said for her. So long as these rumours were confined to the boys, they did not affect Miss Paradyne personally; but circumstances led to their being whispered beyond the college. Mrs. Hill, the lady with whom she had the daily engagement as governess, had gone unexpectedly to Torquay for the winter months, in consequence of the ill-health of one of her children, and Miss Paradyne had made another engagement with Mrs. Talbot. On the evening previous to the day she was to enter on it, the Earl of Shrewsbury dashed home for a minute, and told his mother confidentially that she must not have Miss Paradyne for the girls; that it "wouldn't do." "Why will it not do?" questioned Mrs. Talbot in surprise. "Because it won't." "James, to say so much, and no more, is nonsense. You must tell me why." But Talbot could not say why. Things had not been made very clear to his understanding. All he knew was, that something was "up" about Miss Paradyne and Mr. Henry. He supposed they were privately engaged; but the school was in arms against Miss Paradyne, saying she went out walking with him at night, and—oh, all sorts of things. She must not be let go there as governess. "Don't you think, James, that this is arising out of the ill-feeling entertained for Miss Paradyne's brother?" quietly asked Mrs. Talbot. "No, I don't think it is. Oh, but there is a row about him!—going to be, at any rate," broke off the earl in a parenthesis. "Well, I can't stop, mother mine, but don't you admit Miss Paradyne." "Upon what plea can I refuse? I have engaged her. James—wait a moment. Upon what plea can I refuse, I ask." James Talbot looked puzzled and rueful. "I'm sure I don't know," he answered, twirling his trencher round and round. "I thought I'd better tell you. I'm afraid they must be a bad lot. Queer things are coming out about the father: and Paradyne is not to go up for the Orville." "Why?" she exclaimed half-startled, and beginning to think the affair must be serious. "Not go up for the Orville!"