Yes, he was "the Honourable." Indeed, he had been the Honourable all the time in the true sense of the word. He did not put on any airs--our Ralph could not have done that if he had tried--and he and Charlton and honest old Tom Warren were three of the staunchest chums that ever you met with--always together, and all three working for the good of the Fourth; so that when they were promoted to the Fifth, Mr. Delermain said that it was one of the greatest losses he had received, and that the best influences in his class had all been taken away together. "But," some of my readers may ask, "did Ralph Rexworth win the Newlet?" I declare that I had nearly forgotten that. He did win it; and it will not be a bad idea to finish the story by having a peep at him when he received it. Of course, that was on breaking-up day. What a lovely day that always is, especially when you know that you have a good report to take home, and some prizes to carry away with you. The great hall at Marlthorpe was decorated with flags, and crowded with visitors; while on the platform, which had been constructed at one end, all the boys were gathered, class by class, and in the middle of them was the Head's chair, and the masters' seats, and a place for the speakers--and there was Mr. Rexworth among the speakers! Well, there they all were; and the Head read his report; and they all clapped and shouted at the part where it said that for the second year in succession, Marlthorpe had the honour of carrying off the Newlet. "Good old Rexworth!" shouted one boy. And the Head had to cry order sharply; whereat Jimmy Green nudged Tinkle and said "Shut up, you silly!" so it must have been Tinkle who shouted. And then there were the speeches, and then the recitations; and Tinkle and Green were most wonderfully impressive in the quarrel between Brutus and Cassius--only just at the part where Brutus had to say "Take this dagger," he found he had no dagger with him; and Cassius said very rudely, and quite out loud, so that every one could hear it-- "You silly owl! I knew you would forget it; and I made such a lovely one, with silver foil for a blade." "Imagine the dagger," whispered Mr. Rexworth, his face red with laughter. And the dagger being imagined, the quarrel went on, and was made up in the most approved fashion. And then, recitations over, there came a short pause--an impressive pause, during which small juniors pushed back their hair, and arranged collars and ties, and tried to look irreproachable, for prizes were coming--prizes!