There were rare times and seasons when Mr. Henry was so utterly dispirited himself, that it seemed like a mockery to attempt to impart consolation or preach of patience to another. This was one. The trouble lay heavier on him than it did on the boy. As he sat alone, after George's departure, and took up the Book; more, it must be confessed, from custom that night than from any comfort he thought to find—for, in truth, he felt entirely beaten down, worn, sick, weary; it opened of itself at a part that seemed—ay, that seemed to have been written expressly for him. "My son, if thou come to serve the Lord, prepare thy soul for temptation. Set thy heart aright and constantly endure, and make not haste in time of trouble." And by the time he had read on to the end of the chapter, which is the Second of Ecclesiasticus, peace and trust had come back to him. CHAPTER XIII. If the Boys had but seen! The long worked-for Oxford examination was over, and the results were at length known. Irby and Fullarton had not passed; Powell had not gone up for it by the decision of the Head Master; the rest had passed, including Paradyne. All George Paradyne's apprehensions, and the school's forebodings had proved alike mistaken, for Dr. Brabazon had sent up Paradyne in spite of the damaged essay. In his glee, George Paradyne heartily forgave all, and was his own bright self again. The studies went on again vigorously until July: the great prize, the Orville, had to be competed for yet. In July the school rose for the long vacation, and Dr. Brabazon could no longer put off the explanation with Mr. Henry, which he had deemed it well to defer until the term should be over. To say the truth, he shrank from it. To convict this hardworking, painstaking gentleman of theft—and such a theft!—was a most unpleasant task to enter on. He let a day or two pass, and while he was seeking for an opportunity to speak, it was afforded by Mr. Henry himself. The heat, or something else, seemed to be retaining its spite against the German master, and on the third day of the vacation, when he was giving Miss Rose her usual lesson, he fainted away without notice, just as he had that other day at Mr. Gall's. He had a short cough occasionally, and symptoms of blood-spitting. The doctor sent Rose away and sat with him when he was restored, and rang for Mr. Henry's favourite beverage, coffee. "You shall not go until you have taken some, and the child's lesson can be continued another day," said he, peremptorily and kindly, in answer to remonstrances. "Do you think you can be very well?" he continued, the weary look of pain on Mr. Henry's face striking him forcibly. "Not very; perhaps I have a little overworked myself," was Mr. Henry's reply. "Sometimes I think this place—the air, I mean—does not agree with me."