"I'll wait and see how you turn out, before I am glad," said she. "I hope the High School will not get a reputation for turning out prigs, Jones." I couldn't quite understand Miss Bousfield. She was not as cordial as I thought she might be, considering the honour I had brought upon her school. My guardian's clerks were even less impressed by my distinction than she. "What's the matter this morning?" said Mr Evans on the day of my triumph, as I sat smiling inwardly at my desk. "Nothing particular," said I. "It looks as if it was bad stomach-ache--I'd try camomile pills, if I were you." "Thank you--I don't require pills. If you want to know, I've been up for an exam, and passed." "Been up where?" "Up for an exam.--an examination," said I, surprised at their density. "Where, at the girls' school?" "Girls' school, no; at Low Heath." Mr Evans looked grave, and beckoned his comrades a little nearer. "Awfully sad, isn't it?" said he, with a seriousness which surprised me. "Yes. It's a good institution, though. My uncle tried to get a case in there once, but failed." I wasn't surprised to hear that. "They only let the _very_ dotty ones in," said Mr Evans. "Besides, it'll be a part payment case--at least, I should think the governor will plank down something." "It's worth £40 a year for four years," said I, understanding very imperfectly the drift of these remarks, but pleased at least to find I had succeeded in impressing my fellow-clerks. "Ah, so much?--they can't treat cases like yours for nothing. When are you going in?" "In September. It's a splendid place--five hundred fellows there." "So many! It's rather sad to think about, isn't it, Hodges? Five hundred! What a lot of trouble there is in the world, to be sure!" "I can't say I shall be sorry--I know one or two chaps there already." "Very likely, if it runs in the family at all." "What runs?" said I, not taking him. Mr Evans tapped his forehead. "Never mind," said he, "it's not your fault. I expect four years will do marvels with you. We'll come and see you sometimes, on visiting days." "Ah, I don't suppose there are visiting days, except for parents," said I. "I know one or two of the staff, though," said one of the party. "I shall be able to hear about you from them." "Oh, all right," said I. "I hope things here will go on all right when I'm at school." "School?" said Mr Evans, stooping with his hands on his knees, and looking into my face. "Did you say school? Is Low Heath a school?" "Rather. What did you think it was?" "We thought it was an idiot asylum," said Mr Evans. And a shout of laughter at my expense confirmed his statement. I did not deign to explain; and for the few days I remained at the office I made no further reference to my academic triumphs, though my comrades rarely failed to make merry over the asylum.