St. Winifred's; or, The World of SchoolFarrar, F. W. (Frederic William)
History
St. Winifred's; or, The World of School
Farrar, F. W. (Frederic William)
Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
Yet as he thought how many pleasant hours they had spent together, and
how firmly on the whole Kenrick had stood by him in his troubles, and
how lovable a boy he really was, Walter could not but grieve over this
difference. He found himself often yearning to be on the old terms with
Kenrick; he felt that at heart he still loved him well; and after a few
days he again stifled all pride, and wrote:--
"Dear Ken,--Is it possible that you will not believe my word? If you
still feel any doubt about what I have said, do come and see me in
Power's study. I am sure that I would convince you in five minutes
that you must be under some mistake; and if I have done you any wrong,
or if you _think_ that I have done you any wrong, Ken, I'll apologise
sincerely without any pride or reserve. I miss your society very
much, and I still am and shall be, whatever you may think and whatever
you may say of me.--Yours affectionately, W.E."
As he naturally did not wish any third person to know what was passing
between them he did not entrust this note to any one, but himself placed
it between the leaves of an Herodotus which he knew that Kenrick would
use at the next school. He had barely put it there when a boy who
wanted an Herodotus happened to come into the classroom, and seeing
Kenrick's lying on the table, coolly walked off with it, after the
manner of boys, regardless of the inconvenience to which the owner might
be put. As this boy was reading a different part of Herodotus from that
which Kenrick was reading, Walter's note lay between the leaves where it
had been placed, unnoticed. When the book was done with, the boy forgot
it, and left it in school, where, after kicking about for some days
unowned, it was consigned, with other stray volumes, to a miscellaneous
cupboard, where it lay undisturbed for years. Kenrick supposed that it
was lost, or that some one had "bagged" it; and, unknown to Walter, his
note never reached the hands for which it had been destined. In vain he
waited for a reply; in vain he looked for some word or sign to show that
Kenrick had received his letter. But Kenrick still met him in perfect
silence, and with averted looks; and Walter, surprised at his obstinate
unkindness, thought that he _could_ do nothing more to disabuse him of
his false impression, and was the more ready to forego a friendship
which by every honourable means he had endeavoured to retain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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