Kenrick appreciated this delicacy, and his eyes were suffused with tears. Wilton, somewhat cowed by recent occurrences, was the only boy in his study at the time, and though Kenrick would have been glad to have some one near him, to whom he could talk of the disgraces which had fallen so heavily upon him, and to whom he could look for a little sympathy and counsel, yet to Wilton he felt no inclination to be at all communicative. There was, indeed, something about Wilton which he could not help liking, but there was and could be no sort of equality between them. "Ken," said Wilton, "do you remember telling me the other day that I was shedding crocodile tears?--what are crocodile tears? I've always been wanting to ask you." "It's just a phrase, Ra, for sham tears; and it was very rude of me, wasn't it? Herodotus says something about crocodiles; perhaps he'll explain it for us. I'd look and see if I had my Herodotus here, but I lost it nearly three years ago." By one of those curious coincidences, which look strange in books, but which happen daily in common life, Tracy at this moment entered with the lost Herodotus in his hand, saying-- "Kenrick, I happened to be hunting out the classroom cupboard just now for a book I'd mislaid, when I found a book with your name in it--an Herodotus; so I thought I'd bring it you." "By Jove!" said Wilton, "talk of--" "Herodotus, and he'll appear," said Kenrick; "how very odd. It's mine, sure enough! I lost it, as I was just telling Wilton, I don't know how long ago. Now, Raven, I'll find you all he says about crocodiles." "Before you look, may I tell you something?" asked Tracy. "I wanted an opportunity to speak with you." "Well?" "Do you mind coming out into the court, then?" said Tracy, glancing at Wilton. "Oh, never mind me," said Wilton; "I'll go out." "I shan't be a minute," said Tracy, "and then you can come back. What I wanted to say, Kenrick, was only this, and it was a great shame of me not to tell you before; but I see now that I've been a poor tool in the hands of those fellows. Jones made you believe, you know, _that Evson had told him_ all about your home affairs, and about the pony-chaise, and so on," said Tracy, hurrying over the obnoxious subject. "Yes, yes," said Kenrick impatiently. "Well, he never did, you know. I've heard Jones confess it often with his own lips." "How can I believe him in one lie more than another, then? I believe the fellow couldn't open his lips without a lie flying out of them. How could Jones possibly have known about it any other way? There was only one fellow who could have told him, and that was Evson. Evson _must_ have told me a lie when he said that he'd mentioned it to no one but Power."