“What is this disturbance about the seniorship, and Lady Augusta Yorke?” asked Mr. Huntley, as it suddenly occurred to his recollection, in the earlier part of their journey. “Master Harry has written me a letter full of notes of exclamation and indignation, saying I ‘ought to come home and see about it.’ What is it?” Mr. Channing explained; at least, as far as he was able to do so. “It has given rise to a good deal of dissatisfaction in the school,” he added, “but I cannot think, for my own part, that it can have any foundation. Mr. Pye would not be likely to give a promise of the kind, either to Lady Augusta, or to any other of the boys’ friends.” “If he attempted to give one to me, I should throw it back to him with a word of a sort,” hastily rejoined Mr. Huntley, in a warm tone. “Nothing can possibly be more unjust, than to elevate one boy over another undeservedly; nothing, in my opinion, can be more pernicious. It is enough to render the boy himself unjust through life; to give him loose ideas of right and wrong. Have you not inquired into it?” “No,” replied Mr. Channing. “I shall. If I find reason to suspect there may be truth in the report, I shall certainly inquire into it. Underhand work of that sort goes, with me, against the grain. I can stir in it with a better grace than you can,” Mr. Huntley added: “my son being pretty sure not to succeed to the seniorship, so long as yours is above him to take it. Tom Channing will make a good senior; a better than Harry would. Harry, in his easy indifference, would suffer the school to lapse into insubordination; Tom will keep a tight hand over it.” A sensation of pain darted across the heart of Mr. Channing. Only the day before his leaving home, he had accidentally heard a few words spoken between Tom and Charley, which had told him that Tom’s chance of the seniorship was emperilled through the business connected with Arthur. Mr. Channing had then questioned Tom, and found that it was so. He must speak of this now to Mr. Huntley, however painful it might be to himself to do so. It were more manly to meet it openly than to bury it in silence, and let Mr. Huntley hear of it (if he had not heard of it already) as soon as he reached Helstonleigh. “Have you heard anything in particular about Arthur lately?” inquired Mr. Channing. “Of course I have,” was the answer. “Ellen did not fail to give me a full account of it. I congratulate you on possessing such sons.” “Congratulate! To what do you allude?” asked Mr. Channing. “To Arthur’s applying after Jupp’s post, as soon as he knew that the suit had failed. He’s a true Channing. I am glad he got it.” “Not to that--I did not allude to that,” hastily rejoined Mr. Channing. And then, with downcast eyes, and a downcast heart, he related sufficient to put Mr. Huntley in possession of the facts.