But Pen did not stir. He sat there as though made of stone, that awful hiss still sounding in his ears. Miss Grey's voice came to him as from some great distance. He did not seem to realize what she was saying to him. She saw his white face, and the vacant look in his eyes, and she pitied him; but she had her duty to perform. "Penfield," she repeated, "will you please come to the platform? We are waiting for your apology." This time Pen heard her and roused himself. He rose slowly to his feet; but he did not move from his place. He spoke from where he stood. "Miss Grey," he said, "after what has occurred here this morning, I have decided--not--to--apologize." He bent over, picked up his books from the desk in front of him, stepped out into the aisle, walked deliberately down between rows of astounded schoolmates to the vestibule, put on his cap and coat, and went out into the street. No one called him back. He would not have gone if any one had. He turned his face toward home. Whether or not people looked at him curiously as he passed, he neither knew nor cared. He had been hissed in public by his schoolfellows. No condemnation could be more severe than this, or lead to deeper humiliation. Strong men have quailed under this repulsive and terrible form of public disapproval. It is little wonder that a mere schoolboy should be crushed by it. That he could never go back to Miss Grey's school was perfectly plain to him. That, having refused to apologize, he could not remain at Bannerhall, was equally certain. One path only remained open to him, and that was the snow-filled, country road leading to his grandfather Walker's humble abode at Cobb's Corners. When he reached home he found that his grandfather and his Aunt Millicent had gone down the river road for a sleigh-ride. He did not wait to consider anything, for there was really nothing to consider. He went up to his room, packed his suit-case with some clothing and a few personal belongings, and came down stairs and left his baggage in the hall while he went into the library and wrote a letter to his grandfather. When it was finished he read it over to himself, aloud: "_Dear Grandfather:_ "After what happened at school this morning it was impossible for me to apologize, and keep any of my self-respect. So I am going to Cobb's Corners to live with my mother and Grandpa Walker, as you wished. Good-by! "Your affectionate grandson, "Penfield Butler." "P. S. Please give my love to Aunt Millicent."