St. Winifred's; or, The World of School

by F. W. Farrar

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

  FALLING AWAY.

  Oh deeper dole! That so august a spirit, sphered so fair, Should from the starry sessions of his peers, Decline to quench so bright a brilliancy In hell's sick spume. Ay me, the deeper dole!

  Tannhauser.

  It was generally on Sundays that boys walked in the croft with those whowere, and whom they wished to be considered as, their most intimate andconfidential friends. To one who knew anything of the boys' characters,it was most curious and suggestive to observe the groups into which theyspontaneously formed themselves. The sets at Saint Winifred's were notvery exclusive or very accurately defined; and one boy might, by virtueof different sympathies or accomplishments, belong to two or three setsat once. Still there were some sets whose outermost circles barelytouched each other; and hitherto the friends among whom Kenrick hadchiefly moved would never have associated intimately with the fellowsamong whom Harpour was considered as the leading spirit.

  It was therefore with no little surprise that Mr Percival, who with MrPaton passed through the croft on his Sunday stroll, observed Kenrick--not with his usual companions, Power or Walter or Whalley--but arm inarm with Harpour and Tracy, and accompanied by one or two other boys ofsimilar character. It immediately explained to him much that had takenplace. He had heard vague rumours of the part Kenrick had taken at themeeting; he had heard both from him and from Walter that they were nolonger on good terms with each other; but now it was further plain tohim that Kenrick was breaking loose from all his old moorings, andsailing into the open sea of wilfulness and pride.

  "What are you so much interested about?" asked Mr Paton, as hiscolleague followed the boys with his glance.

  "I am wondering how and why this change has come over Kenrick."

  "What change?"

  "Don't you see with whom he is walking? Oh, I forgot that you nevernotice that kind of outer life among the boys; on the other hand, Ialways do; it helps me to understand these fellows, and do more for themthan I otherwise could."

  "You observe them to some purpose, Percival, at any rate, for yourinfluence among them is wonderful--as I have occasion to discover everynow and then."

  "But Kenrick puzzles me. `_Nemo repente fuit turpissimus_' one used tothink; yet that boy has dropped from the society of such a noble fellowas Power, with his exquisite mind and manners, plumb into the abyss ofintimacy with Harpour. There must be something all wrong."

  A very little observation showed Mr Percival that his conjectures aboutKenrick were correct. Clever as he was, his work deteriorated rapidly;the whole expression of his countenance changed for the worse; he wasimplicated more than once in very questionable transactions; he lostcaste among the best and most honourable fellows, and proportionatelygained influence among the worst and lowest lot in the school, whoseidol and hero he gradually became. His descent was sudden, because hischaracter had always been unstable. The pride and passion which weremollified and restrained as long as he had moved with wise and uprightcompanions, broke forth with violence when once he fancied himselfslighted, and had committed himself to a course which he well knew to bewrong. There was one who conjectured much of this at a very earlyperiod. It was Kenrick's mother; his letters always indicated the exactstate of his thoughts and feelings; and Mrs Kenrick knew that thecoldness and recklessness which had lately marked them were proofs thather boy was going wrong. The violence, too, with which he spoke ofEvson, and the indications that he had dropped his old friends and takenup with new and worse companions, filled her mind with anxiety anddistress; yet what could she do, poor lady, in her lonely home? Therewas one thing only that she could do for him in her weakness; and thoseoutpourings of sorrowful and earnest prayer were not in vain.

  Mr Percival tried to make some effort to save Kenrick from the wrongcourses which he had adopted; he asked him quietly to come and take aglass of wine after dinner; but the interview only made matters worse.Kenrick, not undated by his popularity among the lower forms as achampion of the supposed "rights" of the school, chose to adopt anindependent and almost patronising tone towards his tutor; he entered ina jaunty manner, and glancing carelessly over the table, declined totake any of the fruit to which the master invited him to help himself.He determined to be as uncommunicative as possible; avoided allconversation, and answered Mr Percival's questions on all subjects bymonosyllables, uttered in a disrespectful and nonchalant tone. Yet allthe while he despised himself and was ill at ease. He knew the deepkindness of the master's intentions, and felt that he ought to begrateful for the interest shown towards him; but it required a strongerpower and a different method from his own, to exorcise from his heartthe devil of self-will; and besides this, it cannot be denied that inthe first bloom and novelty of sin, in the free exercise of an insolentliberty, there is a sense of pleasure for many hearts; it is the honeyon the rim of the poison-cup, the bloom on the Dead Sea apple, themirage on the scorching waste.

  Mr Percival understood him thoroughly, and saw that he must be left tothe bitter teachings of experience. Always fond of Kenrick, he hadnever been blind to his many faults of character, and was particularlydispleased with his present manner, which he knew to be only adopted onpurpose to baffle any approach to advice or warning.

  "Good morning, Kenrick," he said, rising rather abruptly, while a slightsmile of pity rested on his lips.

  "Good morning, sir," said Kenrick; and as he rose in an airy manner toleave the room, Mr Percival put a hand on each of the boy's shoulders,and looked him steadily in the face. Kenrick tried to meet the look,not with the old open gaze of frank and innocent confidence, but with anexpression half shrinking, half defiant. His eyes fell immediately, andsatisfied by this perusal of his features that Kenrick was going wrong,Mr Percival said only this--

  "Your face, my boy, is as a book where men May read strange matters."

  Kenrick had tried to be off-hand and patronising in manner, but theattempt had failed egregiously, and he felt very uncomfortable as heleft the room where he had so often met with kindness, and which he_never_ entered on the same terms again.

  Meanwhile our two invalids, Walter and Eden, recovered but slowly. Butfor the kindness of every one about them their hours would have passedvery wearily in the sickroom. Their tedium was enlivened by constantvisits from Henderson and Power, who never failed to interest Walter bytheir school news, and especially by telling of those numerous littleincidents which tended to show that although after the late excitementsthere was a certain detumescence, still the general effect had been toarouse a spirit of opposition to all constituted authority. Kenrick'sname was sometimes on their lips, but as they could not speak of himfavourably, and as the subject was a painful one, they rarely talkedmuch about him.

  Among other visitors was Dr Lane, who, as well as Mrs Lane, showedgreat solicitude about them. The Doctor, who had been told by Dr Keiththat, but for Walter's tender nursing, Eden's case might have assumed afar more dangerous complexion, lent them interesting books and pictures,and often came for a few minutes to exchange some kind words with them.Mrs Lane asked them to the Lodge, read to them, sang to them, playedchess and draughts with them, and often gave them drives in hercarriage. These little gracious acts of simple kindness won the heartsof both the boys, and hastened their convalescence.

  Sometimes Walter was allowed to take Eden for a stroll on the shoreduring school hours, when there was no danger of their being excited orinterrupted by the boisterous society of other boys. There was onefavourite spot where the two often sat reading and talking. It was bythe mouth of the little river--a green knoll sheltered under the risinghills, to the very feet of which the little waves came ripplingmusically as the summer tide flowed in. And here Eden would lie down atfull length on the soft grass, and doze quietly, while the gentle breezelifted his fair hair from his forehead with refreshful coolness; or hewould listen while Walter read to him some stirring ballad or pleasanttale.

  And thus in the course of a fortn
ight Walter was himself again, andEden, not long after, was so far recovered as to be allowed to join hisschoolfellows in the usual routine. He was, however, removed withWalter, and Henderson, and Power, to another dormitory, which they hadto themselves; and the promise of this, relieving his mind from aconstant source of dread, helped him to recover. The boys, too,conscious how great a wrong had been done to him, received him backamong them with unusual consideration and delicate kindness. Theypitied him heartily. It was impossible not to do so when they looked athis wan, sad face, so changed in expression; and when they observed histimid, shrinking manner, and the tremor which came over him at anysudden sight or sound. So every voice was softened when they spoke tohim, and the manner of even the roughest boys became to him affectionateand even caressing. If any had felt inclined to side with Harpouragainst the monitors before, the sight of Eden went far to alter theirconvictions.

  Yet the poor child was never happy except when he was in Walter'ssociety, and in Power's study. Even there he was changed. The brightmerry laugh which once rang out incessantly was rarely or never heardnow; and a somewhat sad smile was all that could be elicited from him.He seemed, too, to have lost for a time all his old interest in work.The form competition had no further attraction for him; the work seemedirksome, and he had no spirits to join in any game. Once Power kindlyrallied him on his general listlessness, but Eden only looked up at himappealingly, and said, while the weak tears overflowed his eyes, "Don'tbe angry with me, Power, I can't help it; I don't feel quite, right yet.O, Power, I'm afraid you'll never like me again as you did."

  "Why, Arty, your illness is all the more reason why I should."

  "But, Power, I shall never be the same as I once was. It seems as ifsome light had gone out and left me in the dark."

  "Nonsense, Arty; the summer holidays will bring you round again."

  But Eden only shook his head, and muttered something about ColonelBraemar not being kind to him and his little sister.

  "Do you think they would let you come and stay part of the holidays withus?"

  Eden brightened up in a moment, and promised to write and ask.