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TIM 
 
T I M 
 
 L, 
 
 1 Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 AND NEW YORK 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
First Edition October 1891 
 Reprinted November 1891 
 
In compliance with current copyright 
 
 law, U. C. Library Bindery produced 
 
 this replacement volume on paper 
 
 that meets the ANSI Standard Z39.46- 
 
 1984 to replace the irreparably 
 
 deteriorated original 
 
 1996 
 
 IT 
 
 MA/ivl 
 
To her for whose entertainment it was originally written, 
 this story belongs as of right. On the shrine of her 
 deathless memory I lay my little book. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 And he wandered away and away 
 With Nature the dear old nurse, 
 
 Who sang to him, night and day, 
 The rhymes of the universe. 
 
 LONGFELLOW S Fiftieth Birthday of Agassiz. 
 
 TIM S real name wa$ .not Tim : so much is 
 certain. What it was/ii have- never inquired. 
 The nickname had been : bestowed; : on\\him 
 so early in life that the memory of such men 
 and women as knew him ran not to the 
 contrary. Tim was Tim by immemorial 
 custom ; even his father, who had little rever 
 ence for established usages, never thought of 
 altering this one, and, as one name is as good 
 as another, we too will call him by the only 
 one by which he was ever known. 
 
 * C . B 
 
2 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Tim was a slightly -made, lean, brown 
 child, but without the pretty colour brown 
 children usually have. He had such regular 
 little features and such a pale little face that 
 he might almost have been called faded, had 
 he ever looked otherwise. Mrs. Quitchett 
 had pronounced him to be the thinnest and 
 lightest baby ever she see, when he was 
 transferred to her care from that of the 
 monthly nurse, in which opinion she was sup 
 ported by that lady, who might be said to 
 be an authority on such matters. Possibly 
 she too might throw some light on the 
 question of how he came by that pre- 
 baptii-rnil r-ickna-ne of his, for she alone 
 had had much to do with him previous to 
 the day when he had been carried, a poor 
 little skinny Christian-elect, to be received 
 into the pale of the Church. 
 
 That event was seven years into the past 
 at the time I write of, and Tim, despite his 
 puny appearance, having struggled through the 
 usual maladies of childhood, and cut several 
 
i TIM 3 
 
 of his second teeth, was living in an old house 
 in one of the western counties of England. 
 
 The Stoke Ashton manor-house, of which 
 the most modern rooms dated from the days 
 of Elizabeth, had been the home of the 
 Darley family through ages of unbroken 
 descent, until a part of it having been 
 destroyed by fire in the year of our Lord 
 1780, the then existing Darley had built the 
 big house up in the park, and called it 
 Darley Court. Thenceforward for the next 
 seventy years or so, what was left of the 
 manor-house became the abode of widowed 
 mothers, spinster sisters, or married sons, 
 until the day when, no such relative laying 
 claim to it at the moment, old Squire 
 Darley let it to Tim s parents. 
 
 The first seven years of the child s life in 
 the queer old house could not well have 
 been less eventful. He was happy enough 
 in the company of Mrs. Quitchett and his 
 old setter Bess, partly perhaps from never 
 having known any other. 
 
4 TIM CHAP. 
 
 His father, nurse told him, was in 
 India. 
 
 1 Where was that ? asked Tim. 
 
 Oh ! a long way off. 
 
 Farther than Granthurst ? 
 
 Yes, much farther. 
 
 The schoolmaster, who came and gave 
 him a lesson now and then, showed him 
 India on the map, but he was not much the 
 wiser. His mother, Mrs. Quitchett never 
 mentioned, and as she never introduced the 
 subject, he asked no questions, having the 
 habit of deferring to her in all matters, and 
 her rule, though absolute, was not a hard one. 
 There was only one point on which he ever 
 questioned her authority : in his determina 
 tion on no account to wear a hat, he was 
 adamant. We all have our idiosyncrasies, 
 and this was Tim s. On Sundays alone 
 could he be prevailed upon to allow a small 
 round covering of mixed straw to be stuck 
 on the extreme back of his head, when Mrs. 
 Quitchett took him to church in his best 
 
i TIM 5 
 
 clothes. At first, when he was very little, 
 his picture-book used to be taken with him ; 
 but when he was considered to have reached 
 an age at which the rector s discourses would 
 be of service to him, this indulgence was 
 withdrawn, and he found thenceforward his 
 principal entertainment in the painted window 
 just opposite his seat. It had been put up 
 in memory of some dead child, and the 
 subject had a great fascination for Tim, who 
 used to call it his window. It represented a 
 long stretch of quiet upland, arched by a 
 twilight sky paling into a streak of soft light 
 where it disappeared on the distant horizon ; 
 walking across the green came the tender 
 gracious figure of the good shepherd bearing 
 a lamb in his loving arms. Tim knew just 
 such a bit of down where the lambs played, 
 and could almost fancy sometimes that he 
 saw the figure coming towards him from out 
 of the sunset. The whole picture was sub 
 dued in colouring, and set for sharp contrast 
 in a frame of tall lilies and jubilant golden- 
 
6 TIM CHAP. 
 
 haired angels. Not less bright was the head 
 of the Squire s little grandson, who some 
 times knelt in the big Court pew hard by, 
 where, almost hidden from the rest of the 
 church, old Mr. Darley persisted in attending 
 worship, to the scandal of his daughter Miss 
 Kate, who inclined to High Church, and to 
 whom tall family pews which turned their 
 backs on the altar were an abomination. 
 
 Thus once a week did Tim conform to 
 laws social and religious, but the other six 
 days saw him scudding bareheaded over the 
 fields, searching for flowers along the hedge 
 rows, or, tired at last with his wanderings, 
 sitting by the side of some little brook 
 nursing his knees, and singing low to himself 
 little quaint snatches of song culled here and 
 there from old books, and set to the nursery 
 tunes Mrs. Quitchett hummed to him, or to 
 others picked up, Heaven knows where, 
 perhaps from the birds. 
 
 No place came amiss to Tim as a resting- 
 place except a chair ; he would sit on the 
 
i TIM 7 
 
 soft green grass, in a tree, on a stile, a table, a 
 window-sill, anywhere but on those articles 
 of furniture which custom has set aside for 
 the purpose. In the winter he and Bess 
 curled themselves up in the shaggy bearskin 
 rug before the fire and fell asleep ; in the 
 summer he sat in the patches of sun on the 
 carpet, and told Bess stories from the Arabian 
 Nights, of which he had discovered a copy 
 with pictures in the old library. The fairy 
 Pari-banou unlocked the wonders of her 
 palace for that patient hound ; Prince Firouz 
 Shah flew by on the enchanted horse, 
 Morgiana whirled in her dance, and Gulnar^ 
 rose from the sea to be the bride of the 
 Persian king ; only the story of the lady who 
 whipped the little dogs Tim never related, 
 out of consideration for his companion s 
 feelings. 
 
 Such was Tim s life : reading to a dog, 
 singing to the streams, having fellowship 
 with birds and flowers, in a strange world of 
 his own creation, hatless, lean, brown, and 
 
8 TIM CHAP. 
 
 happy. The hours slipped softly by him with 
 out his noting their passing. He knew when 
 it was Sunday, was glad when it was fine, 
 not sorry when it rained, full of strange 
 dreams and fancies, companionless yet not 
 alone, for nature was with him. And so Tim 
 grew to be eight years old. 
 
 One day the postman brought Mrs. 
 Quitchett a letter which had come all the 
 way from India, and a long way it was in 
 those days when no Suez Canal existed to 
 shorten the journey. The letter had no 
 beginning, because Tim s father, who had 
 written it, was a man who never quite knew 
 how to begin his letters to an old nurse. To 
 say Dear Mrs. Quitchett seemed to imply 
 undue familiarity. Madam was altogether 
 out of the question. Mrs. Quitchett sounded 
 harsh and dictatorial, which he had no wish 
 to be, and to write a long letter in the third 
 person would have been a needless exertion. 
 So the letter came to the point at once, 
 without preliminary compliment. 
 
i TIM 9 
 
 You will perhaps be surprised to hear, 
 it said, in neat upstrokes and downstrokes 
 and beautifully straight lines, that I intend 
 coming home for good. My doctor strongly 
 advises my leaving India, and I am the more 
 inclined to consent that I am very desirous of 
 seeing my son, to whom I am of opinion that 
 the personal care of a father may be of more 
 service during such time as I am spared to 
 him, than a somewhat larger fortune at my 
 death. 
 
 Nurse Quitchett glanced over her ven 
 erable spectacles at Tim, who was lying 
 asleep on the window-seat, with his arm 
 round the neck of the faithful Bess, but 
 returned without making any remark to her 
 reading.. 
 
 You will have the goodness to acquaint 
 my son with my change of plans. I shall 
 probably reach home by about October, and 
 shall hope to find my boy ready to give me a 
 welcome. I am afraid his education must 
 have been rather neglected, but he is young 
 
10 TIM CHAP. 
 
 yet, and that deficiency may easily be supplied ; 
 while I am sure that in your hands his health 
 at least must have been well looked after. 
 I have always disapproved of the selfishness 
 of some Indian parents who, keeping their 
 children with them in an unhealthy climate 
 for their own gratification, injure their health 
 perhaps for life. I hope to be repaid for my 
 six years separation from my only child by 
 finding a true, sturdy little pink -and -white 
 Briton waiting to greet me on my return. 
 With my best thanks for your care of the boy 
 and the regular reports you have sent me of 
 him, believe me, truly yours, 
 
 1 WILLIAM EBBESLEY. 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett put down the letter, took 
 off her glasses, which were somehow quite wet, 
 and looked again, not without apprehension, 
 at the sleeping boy. In vain she tried to make 
 any of the epithets used in the letter fit the 
 child before her : he was as unlike the picture 
 of the true, sturdy little pink-and-white Briton, 
 
i TIM ii 
 
 on which his father s fancy dwelt so fondly, as 
 one boy could be unlike another. 
 
 William Ebbesley, observing that Anglo- 
 Indian babies were as a rule small and sallow, 
 had concluded, with defective logic, that his 
 child, not being brought up in India, would 
 be neither the one nor the other. He had 
 thought of this imaginary child of his, until, 
 Prometheus-like, he had given life to the 
 figure he had himself created ; and had any 
 one cared to inquire what the boy was like, 
 would unhesitatingly have described him. 
 Nowadays his illusions would be rudely dis 
 pelled by photography ; but when Tim was a 
 child, the art was also in its infancy, and it 
 had not become the fashion to have babies 
 photographed once a year. On one occasion, 
 when Tim was three years old, Mrs. Quitchett 
 had set up his hair in a sort of crest and 
 carried him to a neighbouring town to be 
 photographed, but the child could not be got 
 to sit still, and ended by a flood of tears, so 
 that the little card which finally went to Mr. 
 
1 2 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Ebbesley was hardly satisfactory as a likeness. 
 Mrs. Quitchett herself confessed as much, 
 and the father was quite indignant at this libel 
 on his child. It never even occurred to him 
 that the photograph, bad as it was, had at 
 least been taken from the real boy, and as 
 such might be nearer the truth than the 
 portrait his fancy had painted. 
 
 Writing not being a strong point of Mrs. 
 Ouitchett s, her epistolary style was remark 
 able chiefly for its terseness, and she would 
 as soon have thought of writing a novel at 
 once as of launching into any description of 
 Tim s appearance, beyond such casual ex 
 pressions of admiration as nurses use of their 
 bantlings, and which are not meant to be 
 taken literally. 
 
 After a while Tim stirred uneasily, and 
 Bess, roused into semi-consciousness by his 
 change of position, put up her cold nose and 
 touched his cheek. The boy woke with a start 
 and sat up, to find the eyes of his old nurse 
 fixed on him with an expression he had never 
 
i TIM 13 
 
 seen in them before ; it was gone as soon as 
 she saw that he was awake, but not before he 
 had remarked it, and springing quickly to her 
 he asked, Why do you look at me like that ? 
 What have you got there ? 
 
 The second question happily furnishing 
 nurse with an excuse for evading the first, 
 which she would have been puzzled how to 
 answer, It s a letter from your papa, she 
 said, and I ve got a surprise for you; what 
 do you think is going to happen ? 
 
 He s coming home, replied Tim quietly, 
 as if he had known it all along. 
 
 Law bless the boy! called out Mrs. 
 Quitchett. Whoever could have told you ? 
 But there! nobody could, for I ve just this 
 minute finished reading the letter, and it s 
 not been out of my hand. 
 
 Tim nodded sagaciously: I dreamed it, 
 he said, as he walked off into the garden, 
 leaving his nurse in that condition which she 
 would herself have described as a capability 
 of being knocked down with a feather. 
 
14 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Well, of all the out-of-the-way odd children 
 ever I see ! she ejaculated under her breath ; 
 and then the father s picture of the little 
 Briton recurred to her so pathetically comic 
 in its contrast to facts, that she could not help 
 smiling, though the tears followed close after, 
 as she thought, He ll come between me and 
 my boy ; well, I ought to ha known how it 
 would be. 
 
 But though the old nurse might shed a 
 few tears in private, and to Tim the words 
 My father is coming conveyed, it is true, 
 some misty sense of approaching change, the 
 letter and its contents left no perceptible 
 mark on the inhabitants of the manor-house. 
 Mrs. Quitchett could not spare much time 
 to speculation, and her charge had not con 
 tracted the habit of looking ahead ; what 
 difference his father s home-coming would 
 make in his life he knew not, and scarcely 
 cared to imagine. 
 
 The summer passed away in no respect 
 unlike those other five or six he could 
 
i TIM is 
 
 remember. The roses bloomed and paled 
 and fell ; the birds built their nests, laid their 
 eggs, hatched and reared their young, all in 
 due order ; the cornfields passed through all 
 their accustomed phases ; July succeeded to 
 June, August to July, September to August, 
 and Nature the dear old nurse led this 
 youngest of her nurslings through the 
 peaceful hot months, unsuspicious of those 
 that were to follow. 
 
 The first touch of autumn saddened our 
 Tim ; the waving fields of golden grain, with 
 their wind-rippled orange shadows, had lent 
 a thrill of happiness to a little soul alive to all 
 such influences, and now that the meek, stately 
 ears had bowed their heads to the sickle, he 
 missed their presence, and sorrowed over the 
 stubble. 
 
 This month, too, the guns were popping 
 all over the country-side, and Tim hated guns 
 for two reasons first, because they startled 
 the quiet of his usual rambles, giving a sense 
 of insecurity even to the quietest fields ; and 
 
1 6 TIM 
 
 CHAP. I 
 
 secondly, because each report that made the 
 child jump and tremble, meant the death or 
 wounding of a bird ; and that was keen grief 
 to him. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 . . . and the sweet smell of the fields 
 Past, and the sunshine came along with him. 
 
 TENNYSON S Pelleas and Ettarre. 
 
 ONE day a party of gentlemen set out from 
 Darley Court to shoot partridges. Old Squire 
 Darley was an open-handed man, and loved 
 his kind well enough to be glad to fill his 
 house with them two or three times a year ; 
 but better than all else in the world did 
 he love his grandson Carol, and Carol was 
 worth loving. A brighter, truer, more boyish 
 boy than Carol Darley did not exist in all 
 England ; he was straight as a little dart, 
 had never had a day s illness in his life, and 
 was blessed, in addition to an excellent 
 temper and tearing spirits, with a frame 
 
 c 
 
1 8 TIM CHAP. 
 
 slight as yet, but well knit and vigorous, a 
 broad frank face, a joyous mouth, a bright 
 colour, a shock of golden curls, and two such 
 honest kindly blue eyes, that you might draw 
 gladness from them like water from a well. 
 And the old man would have loved him had 
 he come to him with none of these claims for 
 affection, for was he not the point in which 
 all his hopes and cares centred, the sole 
 survivor of his house, the child of his dead 
 son ? The child had come to the two old 
 people like a message straight from heaven, 
 in their heaviest grief. The first reawaken 
 ing to life after their crushing loss was the 
 discovery that the little lips had been taught 
 to call the old place home. 
 
 Carol was thirteen on this particular 
 morning, and to-day, in fulfilment of a 
 promise of long standing, his grandfather 
 had promoted him from trotting about after 
 the shooters, as he had hitherto done, to 
 carrying a gun of his own. Earth seemed 
 to have nothing more to offer as he strutted 
 
ii TIM 19 
 
 along in the clear September sunshine, 
 bravely brushing last night s raindrops from 
 the heavy turnip-tops with his sturdy legs ; 
 already he foresaw himself the best shot in 
 the county, as his father had been before him. 
 To be sure, he had not shot anything as yet, 
 and the little gun kicked rather and hurt his 
 shoulder, but such trifles as these were power 
 less to dash his joy ; only he did hope he should 
 shoot something before he had to go home. 
 
 That s a fine boy of yours, Darley, said 
 one of the gentlemen ; * he steps out well. 
 Shall you send him into the army ? 
 
 The Squire swelled with honest pride as 
 his eye fell on the boy. Well, I hardly 
 know yet, he answered; it seems a good 
 soldier wasted, and yet I have always set my 
 heart on his making a figure in the county- 
 going into Parliament, and all that ; it wouldn t 
 be the first time a member had come from 
 Darley. I used to hope his father but 
 there, we never know what is best for us, 
 added the old man hastily. Mr. Darley felt 
 
20 TIM CHAP. 
 
 quite sorry that he could not bestow Carol 
 on all the careers open to him ; he was so 
 eminently qualified to adorn whichever might 
 finally be selected for honour, that it was 
 difficult to make a wise choice. The army 
 was a gentlemanly calling, but Mrs. Darley 
 would not hear of that for a moment. 
 1 Suppose there should be a war, she said. 
 Sometimes the Squire had leanings to 
 wards the Woolsack, or if Miss Kate sug 
 gested the Church, he had visions of Carol 
 in lawn sleeves crowning sovereigns and 
 christening royal infants ; but on the whole, 
 though with a sense that he was defrauding 
 all the professions, he felt that the important 
 post of Squire of Darley was the one for 
 which his treasure was pre-eminently fitted ; 
 and there at least I think he was right. 
 The object of all this anxious thought was 
 not as yet gone to Eton, which was to be 
 the next step on his road to greatness, where 
 he would wear a round jacket, and perhaps 
 be whipped ; but if the road we look along 
 
ii TIM 21 
 
 be straight, the eye does not accurately 
 measure the distance. 
 
 The party of shooters were walking along 
 a turnip-field bordered on one side by a 
 hazel coppice, when the dogs put up a 
 covey of six birds a little in front of them. 
 Two got away, two fell, and the remaining 
 two flew for the coppice, on the side on 
 which Carol was walking. 
 
 Now then, sir, cried his grandfather, 
 ( the birds are waiting for you ; winged, by 
 Jove ! no, missed. You little goose ! Bless 
 my soul, what was that ? 
 
 That was a sort of cry which proceeded 
 from the coppice into which most of Carol s 
 charge had gone, and quite unlike any note 
 of partridge or other bird. The boy s bright 
 colour faded from his cheeks, and he put 
 down his gun as though by impulse, but could 
 not move ; he stood wide-eyed, staring at the 
 tangle of slender hazel rods from which the 
 sound had come. Some of the party, how 
 ever, knowing that these accidents were not 
 
22 TIM CHAP. 
 
 of a fatal kind, parted the branches and dis 
 closed to view a small figure habited in an 
 old holland blouse, stretched among the sticks 
 and dry leaves which strewed the ground. 
 The child lay quite still, and on nearer 
 approach proved to have fainted. Carol 
 now came near, steadying himself by his 
 grandfather s kind hand. 
 
 Is he dead ? he asked in a whisper, all 
 the horror of having killed his fellow-boy 
 surging over his bright young heart like a 
 drowning wave. 
 
 Dead ! no, no, no, answered the Colonel 
 good-naturedly (he who had asked whether 
 Carol was to be put into the army) ; he s 
 been grazed, nothing more. It s the fright 
 that made the poor child faint ; any doctor 
 will pick out the shot in five minutes, and 
 to-morrow he ll be trotting about again. 
 
 Carol said nothing, but big tears of thank 
 fulness swelled up in his bonnie blue eyes, 
 and the Squire felt the boy s grasp tighten in 
 his. He had to turn away himself (tears are 
 
ii TIM 23 
 
 so infectious), and to adopt a jovially bustling 
 manner, as he asked the keeper if he knew 
 whose child this was. 
 
 If you please, sir, said the man, it s the 
 little gentleman as lives in the old manor- 
 house along of the old lady. 
 
 Dear, dear dear, dear ! take him home, 
 some one ; I will send down this evening and 
 inquire. Anything that is wanted, if they will 
 only let us know, we will be too happy ; 
 remember to say that ; be sure you say we 
 shall be so glad to send anything. 
 
 Here a grateful pressure from the little 
 hand in his caused him to look at his grand 
 son. The boy was still white, and the old 
 man took alarm at once. Why, Carol boy, 
 come home, come home ; it s nothing, sir ; 
 didn t you hear what the Colonel said ? All 
 right to-morrow, and he departed, dragging 
 his unwilling grandson after him, unheeding 
 his entreaties to be allowed to accompany 
 those of the party who undertook, guided by 
 the keeper, to convey our wounded hero to 
 
24 TIM CHAP. 
 
 the experienced care of Mrs. Quitchett, " for 
 whom, now that he was come to himself, he 
 had begun in a feeble way to ask. 
 
 That lady considered it due to herself to 
 betray no emotion in the presence of the 
 gentlemen further than a violent pull at a 
 wandering string of her cap, which caused 
 that erection to assume a sidelong position, 
 and imparted to her a certain wildness of 
 appearance, strangely at variance with the 
 studied impassiveness of her bearing. 
 
 There was something distrustful, even 
 defiant, in her manner, thinly disguised under 
 an assumption of extreme deference, as she 
 1 thanked them for the trouble they had been 
 at, and sent her duty to Mr. Darley ; but they 
 had all that they wanted, she thanked him. 
 Then, when she had bowed them out, paying 
 but scant attention to expressions of interest 
 and concern, she bundled off the garden-boy 
 post-haste for the doctor, and undressed her 
 charge and got him to bed with wonderful 
 celerity. 
 
it TIM 25 
 
 When the doctor came he made light of 
 her anxiety, assuring her the boy was hardly 
 scratched, picked out the shot, at which Tim 
 winced, and departed, promising to look in in 
 the morning. 
 
 After the tumult comes peace, and in the 
 course of the long, drowsy afternoon, when 
 his kind nurse brought her work to sit by 
 him, Tim narrated the events of the morning 
 in his own fashion. 
 
 You know I hate the guns, he began, 
 and I d gone up by the hazel coppice above 
 Beech Farm, because I thought I should be 
 out of the way of them, and I was sitting in 
 there ; it s one of my houses, you know, in 
 the dining-room I was. We were having 
 dinner make-believe dinner, you know I 
 and the squirrel only I had to make-believe 
 the squirrel too, because he wouldn t come 
 near enough I suppose he thought I should 
 hurt him, but he needn t have thought that, 
 need he ? Well, just then I heard voices in 
 the field outside, and there were the dogs 
 
26 TIM CHAP. 
 
 quite close. I stayed quiet, for I thought 
 they would go by ; but there came a sound 
 of wings, and quick, one after the other, two 
 shots bang, bang, and I jumped up to run ; 
 but there were shouts, and then another shot, 
 and I felt I was hit, and fell down, for I 
 thought I was killed ; and I don t remember 
 much more till I got back here. 
 
 So far all was coherent enough, a rare 
 virtue in Tim s account of events, in which, 
 as a rule, his fancy made such havoc of mere 
 prose facts, that it was hard to distinguish 
 what he only thought had happened from 
 what had actually taken place. But after a 
 minute or two of silence he added 
 
 And, nurse, do you know, I think there 
 was an angel there. 
 
 Lor bless the child ! thought Mrs. Quit- 
 chett ; ( now he s off, I suppose. 
 
 It was in the part I don t much remember/ 
 Tim went on ; it was only the face. I didn t 
 notice it at the time, but I can remember it 
 now quite plain. It had golden hair, where 
 
ii TIM 27 
 
 the sun shone on it, like the angels in my 
 window in church, and big blue eyes. I 
 remember it now, though I did not notice it 
 then, which is odd, nurse, isn t it ? 
 
 There, there, said Mrs. Quitchett hastily, 
 that ll do ; you ve talked as much as is good 
 for you, and more too ; maybe you did see 
 one. Now you just lie quiet and go to 
 sleep. And Tim obeyed and went to sleep ; 
 and in the evening when the groom from the 
 Court came to enquire/ a most satisfactory 
 account of his condition was returned to the 
 Darleys, which comforted Carol not a little. 
 
 That youth, as a gentleman who went out 
 shooting and dined late, considered himself 
 as formed, and spoke of the infantile brown 
 holland Tim as poor child with lofty com 
 passion. Now that all was going well, he 
 forgot his fright, and bragged quite grandly 
 about the day s sport to the lady next him at 
 dinner. Thirty brace and a few rabbits to 
 six guns ; not a bad bag, was it, for a half 
 day? 
 
28 TIM CHAP. 
 
 And how much of it did you shoot? 
 asked his neighbour tartly, who was too 
 young herself to tolerate the boy s youthful 
 boasting ; damsels of eighteen do not like a 
 spoilt boy about the house. Carol blushed a 
 fine pink, and then burst out laughing at his 
 own discomfiture. 
 
 * Don t you know, said his friend the 
 Colonel, who sat on the other side of Miss, 
 that you must never ask a man that ques 
 tion ? You ask what the bag was, and politely 
 take it for granted that each of us contributed 
 his fair share. Our friend there, who, with the 
 modesty of all truly great men, blushes at the 
 record of his own deeds, can t tell you in my 
 presence how he had to cover my deficien 
 cies ; besides, he added, with a knowing 
 look at poor Carol, which deepened the glow 
 on the lad s face, bringing down a very 
 remarkable head of large game, the like of 
 which, I will undertake to say, is not in any 
 bag in the county. 
 
 Carol, you may be sure, sat over his wine 
 
ii TIM 29 
 
 with the other gentlemen, feeling that that 
 was due to himself, though his thoughts 
 wandered continually to some mysterious 
 telegraphic tackle in one of the trees on 
 the lawn, the condition of which he was 
 burning to inspect, while he busied himself 
 with collecting various provisions from the 
 dishes nearest to him, to be conveyed, by 
 and by, to a squirrel, his prisoner and 
 dependant. The Squire always liked to 
 have the boy near himself, and used to say, 
 1 We are all the better, I take it, for having 
 to be a little careful what we say. 5 The 
 conversation did not interest the lad for the 
 most part, being mainly political (for Mr. 
 Darley was a keen politician) ; but presently 
 his attention was attracted by hearing the 
 Colonel talking of the event of the morning. 
 
 That was a strange little mortal that got 
 hurt to-day, he was saying. To which the 
 Squire, who was a little deaf, answered 
 promptly, Ah ! thank you ; the groom came 
 back just before dinner. The doctor says it 
 
30 TIM CHAP. 
 
 was nothing. Going on as well as possible, 
 thank God ; but it might have been a nasty 
 thing. 
 
 I am glad he s all right, poor child. 
 Whose child, by the way, did you say he 
 was ? Surely not the old cat s in the 
 Egyptian headgear. 
 
 1 Ah ! pon my life, it s a sad story. I 
 remember their first coming down here, nine 
 or ten years ago it must be. They took the 
 old manor-house, it should have been my 
 poor dear Harry s, but his wife couldn t bear 
 the place ; but there, she s gone, poor woman, 
 and it s all over now. What was I saying ? 
 Ah ! the little boy. Yes. Ebbesley their 
 name was. He must have been going on 
 for forty ; looked older, a good deal older, 
 than his wife ; a very handsome woman I 
 recollect. He had made money in India; 
 men get on young there bar, civil service, 
 I don t know what. He s gone back there 
 now; been there ever since, . . . and here 
 the old gentleman, observing Master Carol s 
 
n TIM 31 
 
 blue eyes very big and fixed on him, mumbled 
 something to his friend that had Latin words 
 in it ; Carol heard debetur piieris, but did 
 not know what they meant. 
 
 And the child you saw to-day was their 
 son, the Squire went on ; he was born soon 
 after they came here. 
 
 And does he live there all by himself, 
 with that old woman ? 
 
 I believe he must. The old woman 
 must be his nurse ; I never thought of him 
 much till to-day. Lord knows how he s got 
 educated, or if he ever has. He must have 
 had a dull childhood ; perhaps I ought to 
 have seen after him, but we were never over 
 intimate with the parents. My wife didn t 
 take to Mrs. Ebbesley from the first: you 
 see our Kate was a young girl then, and we 
 had to be careful for her, you know. But 
 the poor little boy must be very lonely. 
 Will you have some more wine ? No ? 
 Then we ll have our coffee with the ladies. 
 
 My dear, said Mrs. Darley to her 
 
32 TIM CHAP. 
 
 husband, as he came in last of the black coats 
 from the dining-room, didn t you say that 
 Carol turned quite white when he heard that 
 little boy scream ? 
 
 As white as your cap, ma am. 
 There, said Mrs. Barley triumphantly 
 to her daughter, and the doctor has told 
 me so often that after a sudden shock any 
 one ought always to take a little dose. 
 
 Miss Kate, a kind-hearted but stern lady of 
 two-and-thirty, who loved her nephew dearly, 
 but was forced to act as a sort of permanent 
 drag on her parents exuberant affection, 
 protested vainly that the boy looked as 
 well as she had ever seen him. When he 
 went to bed his grandmother drew him 
 mysteriously into her dressing-room, and 
 presented him with a small round globule, and 
 directions for use. She would have been 
 less pleased, I fear, with his improved appear 
 ance next morning had she seen him, on 
 reaching his apartment, pound the medicine 
 up fine, and cautiously scatter the dust out 
 
ii TIM 33 
 
 of the window, where, we will hope, some 
 dyspeptic sparrow was benefited by it, for 
 no one else ever was. It is a sad fact 
 that a great part of the contents of the good 
 old lady s medicine-chest was disposed of in 
 this fashion. 
 
 At Carol s age, however, a good night will 
 repair most nervous shocks without artificial 
 aids, and he was up early next morning, and 
 down in the garden as soon as breakfast was 
 over. The art of coaxing was an open book 
 to Carol, and he attacked the old Scotch 
 gardener, with whom, as with every one 
 else, he was a prime favourite, in his most 
 fascinating manner. After much judiciously 
 administered sympathy for his friend s pet 
 grievances, Please, I want a bunch of 
 grapes, he said presently. 
 
 1 1 mayna let ye have the greeps, Masterrr 
 Carrel 
 
 1 Oh but, M Allan, they re not for me ; they 
 are for some one who is ill. I must really 
 have a bunch, please. I m sure grandpapa 
 
 D 
 
34 TIM CHAP. 
 
 wouldn t mind, and some leaves, please, to 
 put in this basket. 
 
 Of course he had his way in the end, and 
 set off with his booty in the direction of the 
 manor-house, as hard as his legs would 
 carry him. Mrs. Quitchett saw him coming 
 as she stood in the doorway, shading her 
 spectacles with her hand, looking out for the 
 doctor. Did she forecast in her mind some 
 part of what should follow on this visit ? 
 She was certainly far from guessing the 
 whole of it. 
 
 Tim had passed a rather restless night, 
 full of short broken dreams, in all of which, 
 the angel of his adventure had played a 
 prominent part. Now that he was up and 
 dressed, he still felt tired, and was lying on 
 his favourite window- seat looking out at the 
 already changing trees. He heard the door 
 open but did not turn his head, till a strange 
 voice, young and clear, quite unlike the 
 doctor s, which he had expected, said, with a 
 pretty hesitation, I have brought you some 
 
ii TIM 35 
 
 grapes ; I hope you are all right this morn 
 ing ;!... and there stopped, for Tim had 
 started up and was sitting staring, with his 
 heart in his eyes. There within a few feet of 
 him was the face he had seen in his dreams, 
 the face of his angel. It seemed quite 
 natural to him to hold out his arms ; God 
 had sent his angel to comfort him. Carol 
 was not fond of kissing, and had all a boy s 
 horror of being seen to perform that opera 
 tion, but he could not resist the mute appeal 
 of those outstretched arms, though he did not 
 know what prompted it. He went forward 
 half frank and half embarrassed, and stooping 
 down, kissed Tim s poor little pale face. 
 Then Mrs. Quitchett said, Here s young 
 Master Darley has brought you some grapes/ 
 and Tim bounced back to earth out of his 
 dreamland, and was taken very shy, scarce 
 finding words to say Thank you. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 ... for Enoch seem d to them 
 Uncertain as a vision or a dream, 
 Faint as a figure seen in early dawn 
 Down at the far end of an avenue, 
 Going we know not where. . . . 
 
 TENNYSON S Enoch Arden. 
 
 CAROL did not stay long, but promised to 
 come soon again, which left Tim in a quiver 
 of excitement, and thinking him the kindest, 
 the handsomest, the most brilliant person he 
 had ever seen. It is odd that these two boys 
 should have lived so near one another so long 
 without becoming acquainted ; but it must be 
 remembered that Tim s life had been one of 
 cloistral seclusion. If he had been dimly 
 conscious at times that people spoke of the 
 Squire s grandson, he had paid as little 
 
CHAP, in TIM 37 
 
 attention to that as to other things that they 
 said. Since Darley had been his home, Carol 
 had been much away at school, and in his 
 holidays, had noticed Tim, if he saw him, as 
 he noticed any other child about the village, 
 without attaching any particular identity to 
 him, for it is fair to acknowledge that there 
 was nothing remarkable in Tim s appearance 
 shrinking into the hedge with his burden of 
 wildflowers, as the other boy flashed by on 
 his pony. But now that the child was weak 
 and ill, and, above all, reduced to that condition 
 by an act of his, all Carol s generous young 
 soul was stirred in his behalf ; and the bunch 
 of grapes was the first result of this blind in 
 stinct of obligation to protect and cherish the 
 innocent victim of his bow and spear. You 
 may fancy if the old people at the Court re 
 joiced over this touching and beautiful action 
 of their darling when they came to hear of it. 
 What a dear good boy that is, upon my 
 soul ! said the Squire, squeezing his old wife s 
 hand ; and she, with a tear in her eye, answered, 
 
38 TIM CHAP. 
 
 We ve great cause to be thankful, Hugh! 
 The Lord has taken away, but He s given 
 again ; it s like having Harry back. And 
 they shook their kind old heads, recall 
 ing other instances of singular goodness in 
 Carol, and traits of likeness to his father. 
 Harry had given his sixpence to the blind 
 beggar, and Carol had saved up his pennies 
 to buy a crutch for the lame boy at the shoe 
 maker s. Once the Squire had met his 
 grandson assisting a certain crone, of great 
 age and most forbidding aspect, to carry a 
 load of faggots she had been collecting in the 
 Court woods for her wretched little fire. 
 This goody was, I regret to say, a most 
 abandoned old woman, and a sworn enemy of 
 Mrs. Darley ; refusing point-blank to attend 
 church, and strongly suspected of foxlike 
 visits to the good lady s hen-roost. More 
 over, the Squire was very particular about the 
 sanctity of the timber in his woods. But on 
 this occasion he not only pardoned the tres 
 passer, but gave her permission to boil her 
 
in TIM 39 
 
 skinny pot over his sticks for the future ; 
 until some fresh outrage on her part put her 
 once more without the pale of society. So 
 the objects of Carol s kindness shone with a 
 borrowed light, and were dear to his relatives 
 as so many proofs of the extraordinary 
 amiability of the lad s disposition. 
 
 Tim became an object of great interest to 
 the Darleys : Miss Kate came to see him, 
 and Mrs. Darley, bringing jelly and other 
 good things, such as soft fussy old ladies love 
 to take to sick folk. And the Squire came 
 himself, saying that Upon his word, Tim was 
 a very nice little fellow, and when he got 
 better must come to see them at the Court/ 
 a prospect that alarmed him not a little. And 
 they had plenty of chances of visiting the 
 child, for Tim was ill longer than could have 
 been expected. One day, when the doctor 
 had seen him, he stopped as he left the house 
 and said to .Mrs. Quitchett, You must take 
 care of this little man, nurse ; he is by tem 
 perament an excitable child. So slight a 
 
40 TIM CHAP. 
 
 scratch as he got would have had no effect on 
 most boys, but the shock has evidently told 
 on him ; he is a little feverish and must be 
 kept quiet. 
 
 Then he paused a little, pulling at the 
 clematis round the porch, as though weighing 
 the desirability of saying more, decided to do 
 so, and added with just a shade more im- 
 pressiveness in his voice 
 
 Things will affect him more than other 
 people all his life ; what would be nothing to 
 an ordinary person might kill him. 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett sat clown on a seat near, 
 rather hastily, and looked hard out, up the path. 
 
 You don t mean to say he s in any danger? 
 she said. 
 
 Danger, clear, dear, no ! Don t run away 
 with any notion of that sort. The child has a 
 skin scratch that is half healed already ; that s 
 all. 1 only mean that, considering how very 
 slightly he s hurt, it s odd he isn t running 
 about again as well as ever. The boy must 
 have an odd constitution. 
 
in TIM 41 
 
 He was never remarkably strong, Mrs. 
 Quitchett answered, with a touch of irony ; 
 the wonder was that we reared him. Such a 
 baby as he was ! you didn t know if you had 
 him in your arms or not. But she was a 
 good nurser, though I verily believe she d 
 have had a wet-nurse if I hadn t shamed her 
 out of it. She said the babe was a drag on 
 her ; she didn t let him stay so long, poor 
 lamb. He owes what health he s got to you 
 and me, sir, under Providence, though I say it 
 that should not. Mrs. Quitchett was not a 
 great talker as a rule, certainly no gossip, and 
 probably to no one but so old a friend as the 
 doctor would she have touched on the subject 
 of Mrs. Ebbesley s shortcomings. 
 
 Well, nurse, said the doctor cheerfully, 
 still under Providence, we ll have him 
 healthier yet before we ve done with him ; 
 depend on it, he ll bury many stronger people. 
 
 But Mrs. Quitchett laid by the doctor s 
 words in her heart. What would be 
 nothing to an ordinary person might kill 
 
42 TIM CHAP. 
 
 him. The sentence made a place for itself 
 deep in her memory, to be recalled only too 
 well years after it was spoken. She had a 
 great regard for the doctor, he was one of 
 the few people whose opinion she respected, 
 and she whispered to herself as she got 
 Tim s tea ready, He tried to smooth it 
 away, but it s better to face things. He 
 means what he says, for he s a man of sense, 
 which is more than most. Some relic of 
 her anxiety must have lingered in her face 
 when she carried in the little tray, for Tim 
 said, Why, nurse, how grave you look ; 
 what s doctor been telling you ? but broke 
 off to add, f Please, I want you to let him 
 stay to tea with me ; may he ? Him was 
 Carol, who was there again, to inquire after 
 Tim s progress, and whom that youth was 
 still very shy of mentioning by name. Carol 
 came nearly every day now, and his visits 
 did more for Tim than either the doctor s 
 medicine or Mrs. Barley s jelly. 
 
 Master Darley can have his tea with you 
 
in TIM 43 
 
 and welcome, if he thinks his grandmamma 
 would not object/ said Mrs. Quitchett, glad, 
 as on a former occasion, to escape the first of 
 Tim s questions by answering the second, 
 glad too of any chance to make the boy look 
 so happy. 
 
 Carol had a fine appetite and ate more 
 than his host, in spite of the dinner that 
 would follow, for him, by and by. 
 
 Do you never eat more than that ? he 
 asked in wondering pity. 
 
 Oh yes, sometimes I eat a great deal, 
 when I ve been running about, answered 
 Tim. 
 
 He makes a hearty tea mostly, added 
 Mrs. Quitchett, though he never was much 
 of a boy for his dinner. Tim sighed ; he 
 began to fear he was not much of a boy 
 for anything. He had never thought about 
 himself before, but Carol seemed to present 
 a standard by which to measure creation, 
 and he felt for his part that he fell far short 
 of the desired point. Carol s next question 
 
44 TIM CHAP. 
 
 was not calculated to reassure him ; it was 
 one boys always ask, and grown-up men too 
 sometimes, and is of all others the most 
 difficult to answer 
 
 What do you do with yourself all day ? 
 
 Now Tim s days were always well filled, 
 but on a sudden it seemed to him that none 
 of his pursuits were worthy of mention, so 
 he said the best thing he could under the 
 circumstances 
 
 I don t know ; I never thought ; some 
 times I do one thing, sometimes another. 
 
 Do you read much ? Ain t you dull all 
 by yourself? 
 
 Oh no, I m never dull. I like reading; 
 not geography and that sort of thing ; I hate 
 that, but fairy - tales. Do you read the 
 Arabian Nights ? 
 
 Yes, I ve read some. I like Aladdin: 
 what a clever chap he was. What else do 
 you do ? 
 
 Oh ! I get flowers, and I find out new 
 walks, and make-believe seeking adventures, 
 
in TIM 45 
 
 and I tell stories to Bess, says Tim, grown 
 bolder. 
 
 What, the dog ? What a rum idea ! 
 
 Tim felt he had said something foolish. 
 Do you care for flowers ? he said hastily. 
 
 Yes, I m very fond of them; Aunt Kate 
 is teaching me botany. 
 
 I don t know what that is, says down 
 right Tim, but I m glad you like flowers. 
 I was afraid you wouldn t care for them ; 
 that you d think it was childish or something. 
 
 1 Not I. I bet I could beat you at the 
 names of wildflowers ; but I like birds better. 
 Our keeper knows birds by their flight, and I 
 do some of J em now. I ve got a cabinet 
 of eggs. I ll show you when you come and 
 see me. Tim was grateful and interested. 
 
 Oh ! and I tell you what you shall help 
 me with my telegraph ; I ve got a telegraph 
 from one tree to another, made with string 
 and a basket ; but it s no fun sending 
 messages to oneself, and Aunt Kate s no 
 good at climbing trees. 
 
46 TIM CHAP. 
 
 I m afraid I shouldn t be much. 
 
 Oh yes you will ; I ll show you how, and 
 you shall have the easy tree. I m afraid it s 
 too far, or we d have a telegraph from our 
 house to this, but I should never get enough 
 string. And so the talk would go on, with, 
 Oh! do you do that? so do I, and Oh! 
 that s just what I always think, delightful 
 discoveries of unexpected sympathies, in 
 spite of great unlikeness in most things, 
 and innocent remarks on Tim s part, which 
 made Carol shout with laughter, and then 
 stop and explain very kindly and carefully 
 why he was amused, as he saw the pained 
 look spring into his friend s face at his mirth. 
 
 Do you play games ? he asked once. 
 
 I don t care much for games, Tim 
 answered innocently, but I play draughts 
 sometimes of an evening with Mrs. Quit- 
 chett. 
 
 Oh! I didn t mean that sort of game, 
 said Carol ; I meant cricket and that sort of 
 thing ; the kind of games we play at school. 
 
in TIM 47 
 
 1 No, Tim owned reluctantly ; you see I ve 
 had no one to play with, but I should like to 
 learn, if you ll teach me. 
 
 Oh yes, I ll teach you ; of course you 
 couldn t have learnt with no one to play with. 
 Mrs. Quitchett doesn t look as if she d be 
 much good at bowling, and then both boys 
 laughed. 
 
 By the way, Carol asked, after a little, 
 how comes it that you and she live here all 
 alone ? She s no relation of yours, is she ? 
 
 1 No, she s my nurse, was, you know, of 
 course I mean. Tim was beginning to be 
 dimly conscious that as Carol had no nurse, it 
 was not the right thing. But, he added with 
 compunction at disowning dear Mrs. Quitchett, 
 I love her as if she was my mother. 
 
 And is your mother dead ? 
 
 I don t know ; I think I never had a 
 mother. 
 
 Oh, you must have had one. I suppose 
 she s dead; mine is my father too ; and a 
 sweet gravity stole over the bright young face. 
 
48 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Poor dear, said Tim, forgetting in his 
 pity for his friend that he was himself far 
 more alone in the world. He accepted 
 Carol s explanation of the utter absence of 
 his mother from his life, supposing him 
 right on all subjects. She must have died 
 when you were a baby, before you could 
 remember ; they do sometimes, his instructor 
 had said ; he knew so much more than Tim 
 about everything. That youth believed 
 in him firmly. Carol says so, became a 
 formula with which he would confront Mrs. 
 Quitchett herself, who smiled superior, but 
 left him his comfortable reliance. 
 
 The wisdom of Solomon was nothing in 
 Tim s eyes to that of this radiant being, who 
 was not only a proficient in such unknown arts 
 as cricket, but actually beat him on his own 
 ground of wildflowers and fairy-tales, having 
 acquired a smattering of Greek mythology 
 endlessly astonishing and delightful. Had 
 any one dared to deny that Carol was the 
 born prince of all mankind, I don t know 
 
in TIM 49 
 
 what Tim would have said to him. He 
 counted the hours between his friend s visits, 
 brightened visibly when he came into the 
 room, seemed to lose all heart when he left 
 it, and watched his every motion with looks 
 of jealous love. Carol, on his side, grew to 
 have quite a protecting kindness for the pale 
 child, perhaps not sorry to show off a little to 
 such an appreciative audience ; finding Tim 
 too not an unpleasant novelty and variation 
 from the companionlessness of the Court. 
 
 It was getting on towards October now, 
 but Tim had entirely forgotten the approach 
 ing advent of his father, so completely did Carol 
 engross all his thoughts, until one day Carol 
 himself was the means of recalling it to him. 
 
 Where s your father ? he asked, pausing 
 in an attempt to reproduce the features of 
 Bess on a small lump of wax used by Mrs. 
 Quitchett for waxing her thread, with the 
 aid of that lady s best scissors. 
 
 He s in India, answered Tim, mechanically 
 giving the reply always given to him ; and 
 
 E 
 
50 TIM CHAP. 
 
 then remembering suddenly his father s letter, 
 At least, he added, I believe he s coming 
 home soon. I must ask Mrs. Quitchett 
 when he s coming. 
 
 What ! don t you know ? Why didn t you 
 tell me ? Shan t you be glad to see him ? 
 persists inquisitive Carol. 
 
 * I don t think I care much : don t believe I 
 ever did see him. 
 
 And how do you know he s coming ? 
 
 I forget : dreamed it, I fancy ; or else 
 Mrs. Quitchett had it in a letter. 
 
 That s more likely, / should think, said 
 Carol, laughing ; and so the matter dropped, 
 Mrs. Quitchett not being at hand for refer 
 ence as to date. And that was the only 
 occasion on which Mr. Ebbesley s name was 
 mentioned between the two boys. The circles 
 widened round it in Tim s memory like those 
 round a pebble in a stream till they merged 
 by degrees into the even flow of his new 
 friendship. 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett, on the contrary, who had 
 
in TIM 51 
 
 not made a new friend these twenty years, 
 had wondered several times that she re 
 ceived no second letter from her employer ; 
 wondered too, not without misgiving, what 
 he would think of the Court intimacy, but felt 
 it was none of her doing, so put it aside among 
 the things to be accepted, not curable, even if 
 harmful, by any amount of speculation. 
 
 One day the i6th of September I think 
 it was a heavy gray day, dull and cheerless, 
 when out of doors felt like a stuffy room, and 
 Mrs. Ouitchett said there was thunder in 
 the air, Tim was restless and uncomfortable. 
 In vain his nurse had tried to interest him in 
 his accustomed pursuits. Pari-banou could 
 do nothing for him ; he had grown tired of 
 drawing princes and princesses with strange 
 sausage -shaped bodies and long elbowless 
 arms that projected before and behind ; and 
 still Carol did not come. The days were 
 getting shorter now, and there was not much 
 of the afternoon left. 
 
 Ah ! there he comes at last. The gate 
 
52 TIM CHAP. 
 
 swings creaking, and Carol, hot and breath 
 less, stirs the air in the dull house with his 
 lusty cry of Tim, where are you ? Yes, he 
 knows he is late ; he s very sorry, but he had 
 much to do ; has been, among other things, 
 to get some blackberries, and has brought 
 them to Tim, not quite all, perhaps, to judge 
 from certain stains on the fair face, unless he 
 picked them with his teeth, but still a goodly 
 show of squashy purple berries in a pocket- 
 handkerchief ; Tim must have them for his 
 tea ; yes, that will be delightful, and Carol 
 will stop and help eat them. 
 
 I ve been out in the garden to-day, Tim 
 says ; the Virginia creeper is quite red in 
 some places, and there is hardly a rose left. 
 
 The time s getting on, and that reminds 
 me I had something to ask you : will you 
 take care of my squirrel for me when I go 
 away ? He doesn t want much looking after, 
 only nuts, and to have the hay changed for 
 his bed once in three days. Hulloa ! don t 
 you feel well ? shall I call Mrs. Quitchett ? 
 
in TIM 53 
 
 No, no, I m all right; but what did you 
 say ? are you going away ? 
 
 Oh, is that all ? I thought you knew it ; 
 I must have told you ; every one else knows 
 it : I m going to Eton next week ; didn t I 
 tell you ? 
 
 No you didn t tell me, poor Tim 
 answered very slowly. You talked about 
 school, but but I don t know I didn t 
 think ; I thought you d always come and 
 see me. 
 
 Oh! never mind, you know, Carol said, 
 rather disturbed at this unexpected effect of 
 his announcement ; you ll get on all right ; 
 and then I shall write, and the holidays 11 
 come in no time, and all that. 
 
 The consolation was vague, but effectual. 
 After all, the separation would not be eternal, 
 and there would be the squirrel. Would 
 Tim take care of him ? wouldn t he ? How 
 that squirrel got over-fed when he came to 
 live at the manor-house ! 
 
 Once started on the subject of going to 
 
54 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Eton, Carol had much to tell, and Tim was 
 a wonderful listener. This was Carol s first 
 promotion from the ranks of a private school, 
 second only in importance to that of having 
 a gun. The topic lasted through tea, and 
 was still engrossing them when they were 
 startled by the sound of wheels, which 
 stopped at the gate. 
 
 What can it be ? said Tim ; the doctor s 
 not coming to-day. Tim was lying on the 
 sofa, and Carol sitting beside him. They 
 heard some unwonted commotion in the hall, 
 and Mrs. Quitchett s voice in accents of 
 keenest surprise. 
 
 Carol jumped up and was for going to 
 see what had happened ; but he had not 
 long to wait, for the next moment the door 
 opened, and he found himself struggling 
 fiercely in the arms of a tall yellow -faced 
 gentleman, with grizzled hair and whiskers, 
 who was straining him passionately to his 
 heart. 
 
 1 Let me go ; what are you doing ? he 
 
in TIM 55 
 
 called out, kicking frantically ; and Tim, 
 supposing some damage was intended to his 
 idol, set up a feeble wail, It was at this 
 moment that Mrs. Quitchett entered, and 
 called out 
 
 Law, Mr. Ebbesley, sir, that s young 
 Master Darley from the Court you ve got 
 hold of. Then pointing to the sofa, where 
 Tim lay crying, whiter and thinner even 
 than usual, she added, That one s your son. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 This child is not mine as the first was, 
 
 I cannot sing it to rest : 
 I cannot lift it up fatherly 
 
 And bless it upon my breast. 
 
 LOWELL S Changeling. 
 
 WILLIAM EBBESLEY had travelled night and 
 day. As he neared the child that was all he 
 had left on earth, for whose sake he had 
 lived loveless for seven years of incessant 
 work, his impatience for his reward increased. 
 He outstripped the post, writing letters but 
 not lingering for them to be received. 
 What did it matter whether they were 
 prepared for him on this day or that ? had 
 not they been waiting for him for months 
 past? He had meant to wander through 
 France and Italy on his way ; to visit Rome, 
 
CHAP, iv TIM 57 
 
 Venice, Paris ; to turn aside here and there, 
 as fancy led him. The thought of ease and 
 leisure was pleasant to the weary wayfarer 
 on life s highway ; he, whose whole time had 
 for years been portioned out with the regu 
 larity and monotony of clockwork, found, or 
 expected to find, a luxury in caprice and idle 
 ness. But the thought of his boy drove 
 all others from his head. They would see 
 Europe together, and all wonders of nature 
 or of art should steal a fresh charm for him, 
 mirrored in the delight of young eyes. His 
 wanderings would be far more pleasantly 
 irregular, dictated by the wayward fancy of 
 a bright impulsive child, than by his own 
 more conventional judgment. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley s expectations of his son 
 were not bounded by strict reason : he did not 
 reflect that the child had never even heard 
 of most of the countries they were to visit. 
 His life had not favoured much exercise of 
 the imagination, and all he possessed of that 
 quality had flowed for seven years in this 
 
58 TIM 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 one direction. It was art, literature, and all 
 to him ; and we have seen how widely the 
 conception he had built up for himself 
 differed from the reality. The child of his 
 dreams must be tall, well-made and bright- 
 coloured, merry and -healthy, but above all 
 he must be full to overflowing with love to 
 match the love he was bringing him. He 
 knew nothing of children, and drew his 
 conclusions about a child of nine from the 
 feelings of his own heart at fifty, never 
 doubting that on the boy s side the meeting 
 had been as eagerly looked for as on his. 
 He had never learnt that to a child a 
 mere name such as Father cannot endear 
 a person he has never seen. Those he is 
 with, from whom he receives kindness, how 
 ever slight, may count upon his warmest 
 affection ; but tell him he must love one 
 brought to him for the first time because 
 he is akin to him, and he will not under 
 stand the claim. 
 
 The drive from Granthurst Station in the 
 
iv TIM 59 
 
 crawling fly had seemed endless to the poor 
 man. Have we not all had those drives, when 
 we felt how much faster we could go on foot, 
 yet knew we could not? He had walked up all 
 the hills, in hopes that the wretched asthmatic 
 old horse would gain more energy for going 
 down on the other side. And at last he was 
 here here on the threshold of happiness, 
 hardly daring to turn the handle of the door. 
 When he entered the room he never 
 doubted for an instant which of the boys 
 before him was his son ; indeed Carol, 
 standing in the centre of the room, was an 
 object which so effectually caught the eye, 
 that Tim, lying prone upon the sofa, in the 
 shadow of its high back, was scarcely notice 
 able. He did not stop to consider that Carol 
 was some four years older than his son could 
 possibly be ; it was quite in accordance with 
 his views that the boy should be tall for his age, 
 and in all other respects the lad before him 
 realised so completely the picture of his child 
 which for years had made itself in his heart. 
 
60 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Who can blame him for the sinking he 
 experienced as, following the outstretched 
 arm of the nurse, his eyes rested on the little 
 figure of Tim ? He put down the offended 
 Carol without a word of apology, and stood 
 looking at his son : he was too much taken 
 aback to make any demonstration. His 
 pent-up feelings had expended themselves 
 in the passionate clasp of Carol to his breast. 
 Had he found Tim alone, those feelings must 
 yet have found vent, and would, if they had 
 not counteracted his disappointment, at least 
 have softened it : his fancy would have been 
 busy to make excuses to itself for the child 
 which was, though it was not, the original of 
 his dream-child. But now fate had shown 
 him the perfect realisation of his hopes and 
 wishes, only to pluck it away and substitute 
 this changeling in its place. 
 
 As for poor Tim, he was dimly conscious 
 that something was wrong. This tall, gray- 
 headed stranger, who was yet his father, 
 frightened him ; he felt the disappointment 
 
iv TIM 6 r 
 
 in those sad cold eyes, though he could not 
 understand it. For hardly more than a 
 minute the father and son looked at one 
 another, but the chill of that minute was as 
 a barrier between them through all their 
 after-intercourse. 
 
 At length, roused by some gesture or 
 sound of Mrs. Quitchett s to a sense of 
 what was required of him, William Ebbesley 
 stooped and kissed Tim s forehead, and then 
 left the room without a word. It was neces 
 sary for him to be alone, to arrange the 
 crowding thoughts that pressed upon his 
 brain, to think, to determine above all, to 
 be master of himself. Half an hour after 
 wards, when Mrs. Quitchett went to seek 
 him in the room to which he had gone a 
 little chamber by the front door, which had 
 been his study in the old days she found 
 him sitting still in his coat as he had come in. 
 
 I came to see if you wouldn t take some 
 thing to eat, sir; I m sorry we were so 
 unready for you, but if you wrote I never 
 
62 TIM CHAP. 
 
 got it, though I wondered not to hear from 
 you again. 
 
 He raised his head, and answered her 
 almost mechanically, Oh yes, he would 
 have something, no matter what whatever 
 was least trouble. She brought him the 
 little meal she had arranged for him, and 
 stood watching him as he ate in silence, 
 with the air of one doing accustomed things 
 in his sleep. Her loving old heart had lent 
 keenness to her sight, and she had seen at 
 a glance how things stood ; she longed to 
 smooth matters a little, but hardly knew 
 how to begin ; she had always had some awe 
 of her master, which time and distance had 
 not diminished, and at present he seemed in 
 no mood for conversation. Presently she took 
 courage and spoke. You mustn t think, sir, 
 the little one won t be very glad to see you, 
 when he finds himself a bit ; the poor dear s not 
 himself; he had an accident a fortnight or so 
 back, and he s weak and nervous yet. Your 
 coming was sudden to him, poor dear 
 
iv TIM 63 
 
 He interrupted her almost angrily. Who 
 did you say that other boy was ? 
 
 Tis young Master Darley, sir, from the 
 Court ; it was he that caused your son s 
 accident while shooting, and he s been nearly 
 every day since to sit with him. 
 
 He mustn t come any more. 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett was horrified. Your 
 son 11 fret to death without him, she said; 
 he s going away to school soon ; let him 
 come till then. 
 
 She knew what had passed in her master s 
 mind, and did not attempt to argue with him ; 
 only she begged for a little reprieve for her 
 darling, who was more precious in her eyes 
 than all the healthiest children in England. 
 Mr. Ebbesley considered a little and then 
 answered, * Very well ; but don t let me see 
 him. And with that Mrs. Quitchett was 
 fain to be content. 
 
 Tim meanwhile clung to Carol. Don t 
 leave me, he said, again and again; he 
 frightens me, that man. I don t care if he 
 
64 TIM CHAP. 
 
 is my father ; I want you, and only you. I 
 don t care about him ; and then again, 
 Promise me you won t leave me, Carol ; 
 always be my friend. 
 
 Carol promised readily enough would 
 have promised anything just then to get 
 away. He did not like emotional display, 
 and he was very angry with Mr. Ebbesley. 
 Was that old man mad ? he said indignantly 
 as he scudded off homewards. But his 
 wrath was not of a kind upon which the 
 sun goes down, and the air and exercise soon 
 restored him to his usual spirits. A little 
 breeze had come up towards sunset, and blew 
 refreshingly in his flushed face. How hot 
 that room was ! 
 
 And here for a time we must part 
 company with him. With the evening 
 wind in his curls, he springs out of our 
 story, and is lost to our eyes for a little. 
 Two days later he went to Eton. Tim 
 heard the Court dogcart whirl by the house, 
 on its way to the station. Did Carol look 
 
tv TIM 65 
 
 round ? Was that his hand waving ? He 
 could not quite tell, for his eyes were full of 
 childish tears. 
 
 Soon after this Tim was about again as 
 usual. A man had brought the squirrel in 
 his cage, with a message of farewell from its 
 owner. But for that, life seemed much the 
 same as before. Had he dreamed all this, as 
 he lay on the high-backed sofa ? 
 
 At first even thepresence of his father in the 
 house made but little difference : when they 
 met, Tim never showed to advantage ; he was 
 frightened, and his scared manner irritated 
 Mr. Ebbesley, who never guessed how much 
 character he had. The poor man had no 
 notion how to talk to the child. He patted 
 him stiffly on the head, and asked him ques 
 tions that he could not answer. He was 
 like a man who, meeting another in some 
 foreign country, wishes to hold converse 
 with him, but does not know in what language 
 to address him. If the boy would but begin, 
 he thought, would seem in any way glad to 
 
 F 
 
66 TIM CHAP. 
 
 ( have him there, or claim his interest in his 
 pursuits, he could respond, and would. He 
 almost wished him to be naughty ; he knew 
 he could reprove him, and that at least would 
 be intercourse, and might lead to something 
 else ; only this simple shyness and silence 
 he was powerless to attack. On one point 
 he had no doubt. The life his son was lead 
 ing was a most unprofitable one, and a 
 radical change must be made in it ; he called 
 him into his study and told him so. Tim 
 naturally had not the least idea of what he 
 meant. He looked very uncomfortable, and 
 pulled Bess s ears. 
 
 Your education/ his father went on, has 
 been sadly neglected ; if you are ever to 
 know what other people do, it is time you 
 should begin to learn something. 
 
 Tim, seeing something was expected of 
 him, whispered, Yes, sir. 
 
 * Don t call me " sir," said Mr. Ebbesley 
 shortly ; it sounds common. I had thought 
 of sending you to school, but as you are 
 
iv TIM 67 
 
 very backward, and your nurse tells me you 
 are not strong, I have decided to keep you 
 at home and give you a tutor for the present. 
 I have engaged a gentleman who will come 
 here next week. 
 
 Tim gasped : here was a revolution. 
 You don t mean Mr. Brown ? he asked. 
 Mr. Brown was the village schoolmaster. 
 
 1 I know of no such person ; that is not 
 your tutor s name. 
 
 Oh ! 
 
 You can read, I suppose ? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 What has Mr. Brown taught you ? I 
 suppose he is the schoolmaster. 
 
 A little jography, and sums. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley hesitated for a moment as 
 to whether it was not his duty to examine 
 his son in these branches of knowledge, but 
 came to the conclusion it was not. His 
 tutor will do all that when he comes, he 
 thought. You may go now, he said aloud. 
 Tim needed no urging, but was out of the 
 
68 TIM CHAP. 
 
 room at once. On the door-mat, however, he 
 paused ; something perplexed him : he went 
 through a fearful struggle with himself, then 
 he knocked ; he was actuated by a strong 
 desire to do right, and give satisfaction. He 
 heard his father say Come in, and saw the 
 surprised look on his face when he saw who 
 had knocked. Tim stood in the doorway. 
 
 Well ? said Mr. Ebbesley. 
 
 1 If you please, said Tim, * you said I wasn t 
 to call you " sir " ; what shall I call you ? 
 
 Is the boy half-witted? Call me ? Why, 
 " father," of course ; what else would you call 
 me ? And as the door closed again, he said 
 to himself sadly, Fancy a child that does not 
 know what to call his own father! Is this 
 what I have worked and waited for ? 
 
 How came it that these two, having each 
 such a wealth of affection to bestow, could not 
 spend it on one another ? On the father s 
 side it seemed to congeal in his heart ; on the 
 son s it found vent in a passionate devotion to 
 almost the only being capable of inspiring it, 
 
iv TIM 69 
 
 who had crossed his lonely little path. To 
 the birds, to Bess, to the brook in the woods he 
 unburthened his heart, and babbled of Carol. 
 But to no living person did he mention his 
 name, insomuch that even Mrs. Quitchett 
 thought he had forgotten him. One great 
 treasure he possessed. Not long after his 
 friend had gone to Eton, the Court groom 
 brought a letter that had come for Tim from 
 Carol, enclosed in one to Mrs. Darley. It 
 was written in a big schoolboy hand, and told 
 how the writer was well, and hoped Tim was, 
 and how he liked Eton, and found lots of 
 fellows who had been at his last school ; and 
 some day he hoped Tim would come there, 
 when he was a big fellow. Tim should be 
 his fag. He fagged for Ward, who was 
 captain of the house. He liked football, that 
 is the lower -boy games, for in the house 
 games the big fellows had it all their own 
 way, and it was a bore never touching the 
 ball ; and he remained Tim s affectionate 
 friend, Carol Darley. And, P.S. he hoped 
 
70 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Tim would be careful not to turn the cage 
 round when the squirrel was half through the 
 hole into the sleeping-place. 
 
 Tim was ashamed to answer this, for 
 though love of story-books had early induced 
 him to master reading, his writing was in a 
 painfully rudimentary state ; and as little boys 
 at Eton do not write, as a rule, for pure love 
 of the thing, the letter had no successors. But 
 it supplied Tim with a motive for working 
 with the new tutor in a way that astonished 
 that gentleman, who did not know that his 
 object was to fit himself for Eton before such 
 time as Carol should be old enough to leave. 
 
 Tim s tutor does not require any minute 
 description at our hands ; he was one of 
 those extraordinary men who, though elegant 
 scholars and, in a way, profound thinkers, have 
 yet missed the rewards obtained by men 
 much less gifted than themselves, and are 
 glad of such hack-work as the temporary 
 education of the Tims of this world. It was 
 a relief to him to find that his pupil was only 
 
iv TIM 7 1 
 
 backward, not incurably dull, as were most 
 of the lads into whom it had been his painful 
 duty to hammer the rudiments of many use 
 less branches of knowledge. 
 
 Still, although he took a genuine interest 
 in his charge, which Tim repaid by a grate 
 ful feeling very near affection and wonderfully 
 good behaviour, he neither had nor desired 
 any insight into the child s heart. Some men 
 are born without a fondness for children, just 
 as some have no ear for music ; their more 
 favoured brethren look down on them with 
 sublime contempt, but it is absurd to blame 
 either one or the other. Altogether, except 
 as the means of enabling him to prepare for 
 what he so ardently desired, this blameless, 
 learned fellow -creature played but a small 
 part in the life of our hero. That life, but 
 for this new element of education, was for the 
 present much unchanged. After the installa 
 tion of the tutor, Tim saw but little of his 
 father, which he scarcely regretted. Mr. 
 Ebbesley was often away for weeks at a time, 
 
72 TIAf CHAP. 
 
 being interested in his profession and watch 
 ing many cases carefully. Gradually he began 
 to get briefs himself, and established chambers 
 in London, where he spent most of his time ; 
 his tastes were not countrified. Mr. Darley 
 had called and had asked him to dine at the 
 Court, but the talk there was so exclusively 
 of Carol, of his letters, his beauty, his skill in 
 games, and thousand virtues, that it almost 
 maddened the poor man. 
 
 You saw our boy before he went away, 
 the Squire said ; he has taken quite a fancy 
 for your little fellow. We owe Mr. Ebbesley 
 apologies, my dear, for that unfortunate 
 accident; and yet, he added graciously, we 
 mustn t call it unfortunate if it makes us all 
 better acquainted. 
 
 Thank you, answered his victim, to whom 
 the Squire s milk of human kindness was very 
 sour indeed ; I daresay your grandson was 
 glad to find a young companion. He detected 
 a spice of pity in the reference to Tim which 
 was far from pleasing him. 
 
IV 
 
 TIM 73 
 
 Oh well, you know, said grandpapa, I 
 think he felt very sorry for having been the 
 innocent cause of such a mishap ; he has a good 
 heart, that boy, and is as tender as a girl for 
 anything in pain, though he s a brave boy too. 
 But nothing would satisfy him but that we 
 must send to inquire the same afternoon. He 
 has a spice of Darley obstinacy in him. 
 
 I don t think you can call it obstinacy, 
 dear, put in grandmamma ; I m sure he s not 
 a difficult child to guide if you re judicious 
 with him. When hewas quite a little tiny thing 
 I always said, " That s a child that can be ruled 
 by kindness and no other way, for he has a high 
 spirit." I recollect when he first went to the 
 school he was at, before Eton, I went down 
 there, and the schoolmaster said to me I for 
 get his name. Kate dear, do you remember 
 his name ? was it Watt or Watkin ? Watson, 
 was it? Are you sure? Well, it doesn t matter 
 Mr. Watson said, " He s not a bad boy, 
 Mrs. Darley, but very self-willed." " No, Mr. 
 Watkins," I said, "tJiere you must allow me to 
 
74 TIM CHAP. 
 
 correct you ; not self-willed, only with a great 
 deal of spirit," and I m sure I was right. And 
 your poor dear little boy ? I hope he s quite 
 well again ; he didn t look at all strong. 
 
 ( Yes, he s quite strong and hearty again, 
 thank you ; it was a mere nothing. 
 
 1 Oh, I m glad to hear it ; to me he looked 
 delicate, but then they say I m always saying 
 people are ill. May he come and see us 
 sometimes ? but perhaps he d not care to, now 
 Carol is away ; the house is dull without him. 
 
 You are very good, but he is hard at 
 work just now, and I am afraid I must ask 
 you to excuse him. I have got him a tutor, 
 and he is pursuing a more regular course of 
 life than has been possible hitherto. Will 
 that branch line the railway talk of making 
 touch your property in any way, Mr. Darley ? 
 plunging wildly away from the subject. It 
 seemed as if they were galling him on purpose ; 
 and when the Squire made one of his old- 
 fashioned courtly speeches to the effect that 
 if the more exciting sports of India had not 
 
iv TIM 75 
 
 rendered their homely partridge and pheasant 
 shooting too tame for him, he hoped he would 
 bring his gun, etc., he answered bluntly that 
 he had given up shooting, and so said good 
 night. 
 
 A very curt person, said Mrs. Darley; 
 I am sure, if only in common gratitude to 
 that dear boy for all his goodness to little 
 what s-his-name, he ought to be more civil. 
 Fancy a little thing like that working hard ! 
 I only hope his father doesn t beat him. 
 
 And so gradually the intercourse between 
 the two houses languished considerably. 
 
 The morning after the dinner at the Court 
 Mr. Ebbesley encountered Tim, his lessons 
 done, flying out of the house in his usual hat- 
 less condition. The conversation of the 
 Darleys was still rankling, and his tone was 
 not gentle as he said 
 
 You ve forgotten your hat. 
 
 * I never wear one except on Sunday, 
 answered Tim simply. 
 
 Not wear a hat ! ejaculated his father. 
 
76 TIM CHAP. 
 
 I never heard of such a thing ; I desire you 
 will begin at once. 
 
 But they are so uncomfortable, said poor 
 Tim. 
 
 I think really it s time you left off such 
 childish nonsense, answered Mr. Ebbesley, 
 now really provoked. Why can t you do as 
 other people do ? Why should my son go 
 tearing about like a butcher-boy more than 
 other people s ? It was evidently high time 
 I came home. 
 
 Tim gave in and promised compliance. 
 Carol, he remembered, wore a hat, and of 
 course he would have to when he went to 
 Eton, but it was pain and grief to him. 
 Clearly the days of liberty were over ; hats and 
 the Latin grammar were beginning to plough 
 on Tim s back and make long furrows. Mean 
 while he had discovered, Heaven knows how, 
 the date when the Eton holidays should begin, 
 and he kept strict record of the days on a 
 scrap of paper, scoring off one each night 
 when he went to bed. 
 
iv TIM 77 
 
 At last came the long-looked-for I4th of 
 December, and with it Carol ; and now for a 
 time Tim was really happy. All the time he 
 could spare from his lessons was spent in 
 trotting about after his friend like a little dog. 
 Wherever Carol led Tim followed, though 
 his soul quaked within him at some of his 
 own exploits. Only when Carol rode upon 
 his pony Tim could not accompany him ; and 
 later in the holidays, when a schoolfellow of 
 his own age came on a visit to the elder boy, 
 he grew, boylike, a little ashamed of the con 
 stant companionship of such a child as Tim, 
 which the latter needed no hints to tell 
 him. But in spite of drawbacks and what 
 in this world is perfect ? these were among 
 the happiest weeks in our hero s life. At no 
 later time did he have again such unre 
 strained opportunities of worshipping his 
 idol. 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett watched all this with an ap 
 prehensive eye. No touch of jealousy mingled 
 in her pure devoted love for the child of her 
 
7 8 TIM CHAP. 
 
 heart, but she trembled lest some blow should 
 lie in store for him, that should strike him 
 through this new affection ; she did not forget, 
 as Tim seemed to have done, that first even 
 ing of Mr. Ebbesley s arrival. At each of 
 that gentleman s visits from London she 
 feared some renewal of the talk they had had 
 on that occasion, some fresh decree of banish 
 ment against the unconscious intruder. That 
 his company should be unwelcome to any one 
 was an idea that circumstances had combined 
 to prevent from ever entering Carol s head, 
 but he did not like Mr. Ebbesley, and so 
 timed his visits mostly when he was not at 
 the manor-house, to Mrs. Ouitchett s great 
 relief; and whatever Mr. Ebbesley may have 
 thought, he said nothing, and the holidays 
 passed over without mishap. Golden days to 
 Tim, speeding by as such days are only too 
 apt to speed, never to come back any more. 
 Indeed, it was some time before the boys met 
 again. 
 
 When Easter brought Carol back toDarley, 
 
iv TIM 79 
 
 he found the manor-house shut up ; only 
 Bess, wandering disconsolately, came and 
 wagged her tail at sight of an acquaintance. 
 Mr. Ebbesley had taken his son for that 
 continental tour to which he had so long 
 looked forward. It would be hard to say 
 what odd quirk in the man made him cling 
 to this part of his old dream, now that so 
 much of it had gone astray ; perhaps he had 
 a sort of hope that change of air and scene 
 might develop Tim into something more 
 like what he had imagined him, that by 
 adhering rigidly to his programme some 
 result that he had looked for might follow 
 even yet. 
 
 And, indeed, in the strange new world to 
 which he was transported, Tim found much 
 to excite and interest him. Mr. Ebbesley 
 was better pleased with him than he had 
 been yet, but by this time it was too late for 
 him to overcome the feeling of constraint 
 and fear he always felt in his father s 
 presence. He was never at his ease with 
 
8o TIM CHAP. 
 
 him. And then he was such a child, so very 
 young. He could not appreciate half he 
 saw. But William Ebbesley did not under 
 stand all that, and there was no one to tell 
 it to him. 
 
 At midsummer it was Carol who was 
 absent. A visit to a friend s house, measles 
 in the village I know Tim had them slightly 
 about that time, a journey to Scotland with 
 his grandparents, and the six weeks holiday 
 was gone without bringing him to the Court. 
 It was a year before Tim saw Carol again. 
 A year, which is so little to older people, is 
 a very long time at Tim s age a long 
 time for a little boy to remain fixed in his 
 loyalty to an idea. But Tim remained fixed 
 for that year and for others that followed, 
 there being no one to disturb his allegiance. 
 Carol was his almanac, all minor events 
 dating from the periods when he was with 
 him. 
 
 How eagerly he longed for the day which, 
 by taking him to Eton, should put an end to 
 
iv TIM 8 1 
 
 the long separations ; he feared nothing that 
 might await him there, for he would be near 
 Carol always then, and what more could he 
 want than that ? 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 Oh ! better than the world of dress, 
 
 And pompous dining-out ; 
 Better than simpering and finesse, 
 
 Is all this stir and rout. lonica. 
 
 IT was a proud day for Tim when his tutor 
 announced that he considered him sufficiently 
 well grounded to take Fourth Form at Eton. 
 Tim was now twelve years old, and had 
 adopted a more virile costume than the 
 holland blouse of his youth. But for that 
 and his little learning, he was quite un 
 changed from what we have known him. 
 It is circumstances and events that make 
 people young or old, not the years that pass 
 over their heads. Some few happy people 
 never grow up, but are boys and girls at heart 
 
CHAP, v TIM 83 
 
 all their lives. Few of us can have reached 
 maturity without remembering periods when 
 we have felt very old, and the pleasant 
 shock of getting younger again ; and even 
 in the oldest people s lives, little patches of 
 youth blossom out now and then. But in 
 boys the differences are even more marked. 
 Some are little men from the time they can 
 walk, with all a man s self-reliance and self- 
 conceit ; others ripen very slowly ; some 
 hardly at all. 
 
 Carol, who had been to school, and lived 
 among older people, had fancied himself 
 quite grown up at twelve. He dined down 
 stairs and went out shooting, and talked of 
 Tim, as I have said, as poor child. But 
 Tim at the same age was as much a child 
 as he had been at nine or eight or seven. 
 Any one less fitted to be put down suddenly 
 in all the stir and hubbub and seeming heart- 
 lessness of a big public school, it would be 
 hard to find. But then Tim knew nothing 
 of public school life ; to him going to Eton 
 
84 TIM CHAP. 
 
 meant only reunion with Carol. Mr. 
 Ebbesley was astonished at the boy s eager 
 ness ; he knew him to be shy and rather 
 nervous, and could not conceive what made 
 him desire a way of life so unlike anything 
 which might naturally have been supposed to 
 be congenial to him. He set it down with 
 characteristic morbidness partly to a desire 
 to get away from him ; but on the whole he 
 was pleased at the wish, as manifesting a spirit 
 more like other boys than he was wont to 
 find in his small son. Mr. Darley had 
 recommended his grandson s tutor to his 
 neighbour ; so, to Tim s great joy, he found 
 himself one bright May morning actually an 
 Eton boy, and an inmate of the same house 
 as Carol. 
 
 That youth was sixteen now, and in 
 Middle Division ; and any one more versed 
 than Tim in the manners and customs of 
 the strange world into which he had been 
 transported, could have told him that whatever 
 hopes he might cherish of companionship 
 
v TIM 85 
 
 were doomed to disappointment. Between 
 a white-tied young man in Carol s position, 
 and a little scug in Fourth Form there is 
 a great gulf fixed. 
 
 That first day at school seemed intermin 
 able in its dreary emptiness to the new boy. 
 He had a shadowy feeling that something 
 fearful would happen if he were a minute 
 late for the time at which he was told to 
 present himself in school, and dared settle 
 to no employment, for fear that hour should 
 come, and pass unheeded ; and in the mean 
 while the long unemployed interval stretched 
 away dismally before him. A hundred times 
 he pulled out the new silver watch his father 
 had bought for him, to find that just five 
 minutes had elapsed since he last consulted 
 it. He ventured a little way up town, and 
 then came back and started afresh, but the 
 sense of his costume, so new to him, so 
 familiar to the passers-by, made him feel as 
 if every eye must be upon him, and he again 
 sought refuge in his bare little chamber. He 
 
86 TIM CHAP. 
 
 felt so terribly alone and uncared-for. He 
 heard voices and hurrying steps in the echo 
 ing wooden passages, and then a silence 
 succeeded, which filled him with terror lest 
 some school was going on which he ought to 
 be attending. He crept along the passage 
 and peeped into one or two open doors ; 
 there were boots lying about, and little heaps 
 of clothes : the boys had gone to their games 
 and a noontide stillness reigned through the 
 big house. Down in the yard under his 
 window the shoeblack was singing a cheer 
 ful vulgar song as he cleaned the knives, 
 sometimes interrupted by calling to a brother 
 menial, invisible in the inner regions of 
 pantry, scraps of light badinage or local 
 gossip. Tim would have liked to descend 
 and chat with them, anything to break the 
 sense of being dead and forgotten that 
 weighed upon his soul. 
 
 Only the little boys were back as yet. 
 Carol was coming that evening, Tim told him 
 self, and then he would lose this strange 
 
v TIM 87 
 
 feeling of isolation ; he had a vague notion 
 that Carol would devote at least the first day 
 to taking him about and showing him the 
 place. It s a pity we couldn t have come back 
 together, he thought ; but Carol had explained 
 to him that it was unheard-of for any boy to 
 return before his proper time. The weary 
 day wore itself out at last, but still Carol had 
 not arrived. Supper-time, prayer-time, bed 
 time, so the boys maid announced to Tim who 
 was sitting up, though it was hard work to keep 
 the heavy eyelids from closing. What, not in 
 bed yet, sir ? why, it s past ten. I must take 
 your light in another five minutes. Now make 
 aste and get to bed ; you re as sleepy as ever 
 you can be ; we can t ave you little ones 
 sitting up like this ; there s trouble enough to 
 get the lights from the big gentlemen without 
 that. Subsequent angry altercations in the 
 passage proved to Tim the truth of the good 
 lady s assertion. He obeyed, not having 
 courage to question the mandate of this 
 peremptory person, but it was sorely against 
 
88 TIM CHAP. 
 
 his will. Carol would think it so unkind of 
 him, he was afraid, not to have sat up for 
 him. But perhaps he would come to see him, 
 just to say he had come, and good-night. 
 So he forced himself to keep awake ; he knew 
 there was a train in about half-past ten, and 
 it was almost that before his light was taken. 
 Between sleeping and waking he was con 
 scious of the sound of wheels, of voices and 
 laughter under his window, then luggage was 
 dragged with many thumps along the passage. 
 Tim was wide awake again now, listening 
 with all ears. Three or four boys just come 
 were going to their rooms, full of talk, loth 
 to separate, having many things to say. 
 Suddenly, yes, that was Carol s voice, talking 
 eagerly, questioning, answering, laughing. 
 Tim sat up ready to call out that he was 
 awake, though the room was dark, the 
 moment the door opened ; he never doubted 
 it woiild open. The talkers seemed to 
 pause just outside his room. I swear 
 you ve got fat ; hasn t he ? What have you 
 
v TIM 89 
 
 been doing with yourself? Then a shout. 
 Why, if it isn t the hyena ! Come to my 
 arms, hyena ; how s your old self ? Oh! I say, 
 come to my room ; I ve got something to show 
 you, if I can find it. Never mind, Martha ; 
 it s the first night, you know, and we shan t 
 be long. Then the voices, still talking, 
 turned the corner and grew fainter as the 
 boys retreated. Tim sat up in the dark, still 
 waiting, still hoping. The house wasn t quiet 
 yet ; little bursts of merriment reached him 
 yet occasionally, and Martha s voice raised 
 in bitter expostulation. Then more steps, 
 renewed hope, fresh disappointment, and 
 silence and blackness once more. I am 
 much afraid that amid the renewing of so 
 many interrupted interests, and meeting of 
 so many former friends, Carol had forgotten 
 the existence of his little new schoolfellow. 
 He remembered him next morning though, 
 and went in search of him. 
 
 * Hulloa, well, here you are, he said not 
 unkindly, but with some embarrassment, after 
 
9 TIM CHAP. 
 
 he had shaken hands, and while he wandered 
 round the little room examining everything 
 minutely, as a cover for his want of conver 
 sation. I suppose you ll soon shake in, you 
 know, and make friends. Come to me if you 
 want to know anything, and if any one bullies 
 you badly just you let me know ; but no one 
 will : this isn t the sort of house. Nothing I 
 can do for you? The .truth was he was 
 debating uneasily what he could do for Tim. 
 He had often been asked to look after boys 
 before, with whose parents he had some 
 acquaintance, and in such cases he had always 
 asked the boy to breakfast, and having been 
 bored for half an hour, considered his duty 
 done, and thought no more about him. But 
 Tim was different ; and then you couldn t ask 
 a lower boy in your own house to breakfast, 
 especially if he was going to be your fag by 
 and by. 
 
 So that Tim rather weighed on Carol s 
 soul with a sense of ill-defined responsibility. 
 He wondered whether he oughtn t to explain 
 
v TIM 91 
 
 things to him, but didn t know how to begin ; 
 he felt it would be absurd to preach him a 
 sort of little sermon. 
 
 I suppose you know pretty well about 
 things, he said vaguely, with a rather doubt 
 ful glance. 
 
 Yes, I think so, thank you, Carol. 
 
 Oh ! and I say, you know, the elder lad 
 rejoined carelessly/ you won t think it un 
 kind, you know ; but you ll have to call me 
 Darley here, you know ; of course it won t 
 make any difference in the holidays ; but it 
 wouldn t do, don t you see. 
 
 Tim promised to remember, and Carol 
 departed feeling relieved, after a parting 
 injunction not to sock away all his money. 
 
 What is one to do, he asked of his chief 
 friend and crony Villidge minor, as they 
 strolled together arm in arm towards chapel, 
 with a small boy in one s own house that 
 one knows at home ? 
 
 If it s a riddle I give it up ; if not, I should 
 say kick him, answered Villidge cheerfully. 
 
92 TIM CHAP. 
 
 No, but seriously, you know, persisted 
 Carol, anxious to do his duty. 
 
 4 Why, seriously, what can you do ? 
 Nothing. Wholesome neglect, my friend, 
 is the one valid principle of education. 
 
 So Carol laughed and determined to act 
 on the one valid principle, the advice being 
 thoroughly in accordance with his own views 
 of the subject. 
 
 That s what old Blow-hard (by which 
 name he designated one of his preceptors) 
 would call the great " Layssy fair" of Poli 
 tical Economists/ he said. What a mercy 
 we re not up to him this half! and so the 
 talk drifted into other channels. 
 
 Tim saw him at dinner sitting far off at 
 another table, but when Carol looked round 
 to the corner where the new boys sat, and 
 nodded encouragingly, the attention thus 
 attracted to him made him so shy, that 
 he almost wished he had remained undistin 
 guished. When the meal was over, and he 
 was retreating once more, he found himself 
 
v TIM 93 
 
 the centre of an unoccupied and inquisitive 
 group of lower boys, who were giving them 
 selves airs in the passage, in the temporary 
 absence of their social superiors. 
 
 1 Hulloa, new fellow, what s your name ? } 
 
 1 Where have you taken ? 
 
 * Where do you board ? added a wag, 
 affecting ignorance of the house he was in. 
 
 At this they all laughed, and some one 
 added 
 
 Do you know Darley at home ? 
 
 Yes/ 
 
 Happy Darley. 
 
 Shut up, Carter ; you re a deal too clever ; 
 some day you ll do yourself an injury if you 
 don t look out. 
 
 Come and look at the papers, Weston, 
 returned Carter hastily, who was nervous 
 when Weston began to chaff him, and proud 
 of taking an interest in public affairs in 
 advance of most of his contemporaries. 
 The big fellows choke up the library all day, 
 and look thunder if a lower boy comes in. 
 
94 TIM CHAP. 
 
 They are very welcome, said Weston, 
 who liked shocking Carter. * I m not going 
 to waste a precious after-two so early in the 
 half when I ve still got some tin ; it don t 
 hold out long. Besides, the Times has gone 
 off; it used to be full of assizes, and now it s 
 all politics and that sort of rot. 
 
 The Police News is Tommy s favourite 
 paper, isn t it, Tommy ? Never mind, sock us 
 an ice and I ll come with you, and Carter 
 shall do politics for the lot of us. 
 
 At this point the projects, literary and 
 otherwise, of the party were rudely broken 
 in upon by the unwelcome sound of Lower 
 boy-hoy-hoy, roared lustily from the landing 
 above in a fine fresh young bass before 
 which the trebles ceased to pipe, and six 
 little pairs of legs went scampering upstairs. 
 Tim hesitated a minute, not daring to ask 
 whether he ought to go too, finally decided 
 he had better, and went nervously last. 
 
 Here the last shall go. Hulloa, stop a bit; 
 you re new, ain t you ? You needn t come, 
 
v TIM 95 
 
 you know, for your first fortnight ; when 
 you ve been here longer you won t be in 
 such a hurry to fag/ and Tim retired very 
 red, among the titters of the other little 
 wretches. He gave a start as on entering 
 his room he perceived Weston apparently 
 glued to the wall behind the door. Hush! 
 hold your tongue, Skinny, said that young 
 gentleman in a hoarse whisper ; then having 
 peeped through the crack of the door, he 
 added in his usual tones, It s all right; he s 
 sent Sawnders ; rough luck on the beggar, 
 but he s rather a scalliwag, so I don t care ; 
 besides he s fat, and the exercise will do him 
 good ; he d take the prize over you any day, 
 and with a valedictory punch in the ribs to 
 his host, delivered apparently with a view to 
 ascertaining the amount of flesh there, and 
 followed by an elaborate pantomime of having 
 hurt his knuckles, he slid down the banisters 
 and vanished. 
 
 Thus Ebbesley, as he was now to be 
 called, began to be aware of the fact that 
 
96 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Eton, besides being the dwelling-place of 
 Carol, contained some 898 other boys, of ages 
 varying from his own to twenty years, whose 
 existence he had in his day-dreams completely 
 ignored, a course by no means open to him 
 when brought into actual contact with those 
 young gentlemen. Not that any one meant 
 to be particularly unkind to him, but he was 
 such a forlorn-looking little creature, his high 
 hat was so big for him, and his fingers so 
 inky, that it seemed somehow natural and 
 handy to launch a casual kick or slighting re 
 mark at him in passing, greetings bestowed 
 almost unconsciously, and which would never 
 have affected a more robust temperament, 
 but which the poor child took as indications 
 of a deep-seated ill-will towards him on the 
 part of his schoolfellows. It was all part of 
 the tendency to take things hard, predicted 
 in old days by the wise old doctor at Stoke 
 Ashton. He felt an atmosphere of hostility, 
 and froze under it, becoming very silent and 
 rather sulky, by no means a happy course for 
 
v TIM 97 
 
 conciliating schoolboys. Carol with frank 
 boyish manners, good looks, an inborn knack 
 of games, and the experience of a private 
 school, had soon found his level, and having 
 punched the head of Swamp minor for calling 
 him Miss Darling on account of his fair 
 skin, had established a footing in the semi- 
 barbarous community, to which only the 
 strong can attain ; whereas Tim, unused to 
 the society of boys, forbidden by the doctor 
 to play violent games on account of his 
 health, too weak to withstand bullying, yet 
 too simple-minded to lie or cringe, the natural 
 weapons of the otherwise defenceless, was 
 like a person who had been long kept in a 
 dark and silent room, suddenly exposed in 
 some busy thoroughfare to the full glare of 
 the noonday sun ; he was dazed by the ful 
 ness of life that surged around him. That 
 very quality which seems so full of beauty 
 to sentimental people like Mr. Gray (with 
 whose works, containing the celebrated ode 
 to Eton College, the head-master presents 
 
 H 
 
98 TIM CHAP. 
 
 the students on their leaving), and which 
 another poet of our own day has described 
 in the lines at the head of this chapter 
 as all this stir and rout, was sufficiently 
 bewildering to our little country boy set 
 suddenly down in the midst of it. We 
 who look back on school -life through the 
 softening haze of memory, forget that the 
 boys so perfectly satisfactory from an aesthetic 
 point of view have ceased to have the 
 power of inflicting pain upon us, while 
 they possess it in an astonishing degree 
 in the case of their schoolfellows. Luckily 
 for our hero, active corporeal bullying had 
 gone out of fashion before his day, but small 
 boys possess the art of wounding by words 
 and looks in a perfection quite unknown to 
 the other sex in any stage of development, 
 and when they give their minds to it can 
 make a sensitive companion s life as thorough 
 a burthen to him as need be wished. You, 
 dear lady, who read this, if you know any 
 little boys at school near you who have left 
 
v TIM 99 
 
 home for the first time, ask leave for the 
 poor little souls to come out and spend the 
 day with you. Don t stop to think that they 
 will find it dull, that you are not used to boys 
 and shan t know how to amuse them ; they 
 won t need amusing. It will be happiness 
 enough to get away from school and into a 
 home for an hour or two. Take the little 
 red hands in your delicate palm and ask kind 
 questions about home and family ; you will 
 be doing a really charitable thing, and will 
 win a mother s gratitude when the next 
 Sunday letter is written ; or if your little 
 visitor have no mother, Heaven help him, 
 he needs all your goodness ten times the 
 more. But don t ask the elder boys ; they 
 would rather play cricket, and won t say 
 thank you. 
 
 If Tim shed a few tears in his turn-up bed 
 stead sometimes, in the silence of the night, no 
 one was aware of the fact but that remark 
 able piece of furniture, whose venerable 
 timbers must have absorbed too much of that 
 
100 TIM CHAP. 
 
 form of moisture, first and last, to have looked 
 on it as a novelty. He had no loving mother, 
 poor soul, to whom to unburthen his grief in 
 long incoherent letters ; he would not un 
 necessarily distress Mrs. Quitchett, and of his 
 father he was too much in awe to dare to 
 complain to him of anything at Eton, after 
 his eagerness to be allowed to go there. To 
 the world at large or rather at small, if the 
 coining of such an expression is permissible, 
 for his public was a very limited one he was 
 simply a specimen of a very common form of 
 scug, whom exclusion from the citizenship of 
 games had degraded into a helotry, which 
 translated itself to the outward eye principally 
 by ink and a tendency to loaf up town and 
 look into shop -windows, the High Street 
 being built in a straight line with the College, 
 and to walk up it requiring consequently less 
 active volition than to go in any other direc 
 tion. It was this tendency to follow his nose, 
 coupled with his love of animals, that caused 
 many of his walks to end in the back-yard of 
 
r TIM 101 
 
 a rather dingy little shop where ferrets, canary- 
 birds, rabbits, and such small game, formed 
 the stock-in-trade of the dirtiest old man Tim 
 had ever seen. He .was one day watching 
 the attempts of six little birds with red beaks 
 to attain to freedom of action in a cage where 
 one of them would have been rather cramped 
 for room, when the proprietor of the establish 
 ment invited him in. 
 
 1 Wouldn t yer like to take a look round 
 the premisses, sir ? No need to buy nothing 
 yer don t want. Alway glad of inspection. 
 I ve some remarkable nice young rats, if they 
 was at all in your line, and a beautiful little 
 terrier bitch I should like to show yer as a 
 pictur, not with any notion of selling. 
 
 So Tim took a look round the premisses/ 
 saw the baby rats like little lumps of raw beef 
 squeaking round their sharp -nosed, bright- 
 eyed parent, the wicked-looking lithe ferrets, 
 the ridiculous fancy pigeons, the stolidly 
 munching lop-eared rabbits, and the beautiful 
 little terrier bitch/ a shivering, forlorn little 
 
102 TIM CHAP. 
 
 mongrel, who was howling dismally in a 
 superannuated tub. A certain air of mouldy 
 dejection seemed common to all the denizens 
 of this remarkable yard, in marked contrast 
 to the shop, where a dozen canaries were all 
 piping and shrilling n t to burst their swollen 
 little yellow throats. Tim bought some 
 rabbits, no doubt at considerably more than 
 their market value, but which were cheap to 
 him as giving him an interest in life, and a 
 vested right to visit this charming emporium 
 at his own discretion. The owner of the 
 establishment made a handsome income out 
 of the board and lodging of those rabbits, but 
 a really enterprising man is never content 
 when on the track of a good thing, and his 
 efforts to dispose of other inmates of the yard 
 to his customer on similarly advantageous 
 terms were as unflagging as they were 
 fruitless. 
 
 Yer see this ere ferret, sir, he would say ; 
 he is a beauty now. I shall sell im to young 
 Lord Ratisbane as boards at the Rev. s ; 
 
v TIM 103 
 
 is lordship 11 give me whatever I like to ask 
 im for sich a ferret as that, once he gets his 
 eyes on im, and so forth ; but Tim remained 
 undazzled. He possessed a fund of quiet 
 obstinacy, and he did not like ferrets ; fancy 
 prices given by youthful members of the 
 aristocracy had little empire over his imagina 
 tion. But temptation takes many forms, and 
 this old man was as subtile as the Scriptural 
 serpent in his adjustment of his lures to the 
 special character with which he had to deal. 
 Finding Tim s mind not set in the direction 
 of sport, he plied him with pets of a more 
 domestic nature ; a tortoise of the most fasci 
 nating ugliness was offered him on terms 
 which he was assured were exceptionally 
 advantageous. 
 
 I don t want to over-persuade yer, sir, I m 
 sure, but if you fancies tortoises, why yer 
 couldn t ave a nicer one. 
 
 The tortoise which the old man balanced 
 on the palm of one extended hand, while with 
 the other he thoughtfully stroked a tame rat 
 
104 TIM CHAP. 
 
 that was ascending his shoulder, protruded its 
 cross face and hissed at Tim with deadly 
 malignity, then it withdrew permanently into 
 its shell. 
 
 I m sure it s a very nice tortoise, if one 
 happened to want one, the customer said, with 
 his usual grave politeness ; but you see I 
 have the rabbits to come and see here, and I 
 don t think the tortoise would be happy in my 
 room 
 
 In yer room, is it ? burst in the dirty old 
 man; if you d a mentioned it sooner, I d a 
 told yer as I ad the very thing yer wanted. 
 If it s a ouse pet ye re in want of, what can be 
 nicer than a good canary ? 
 
 It wouldn t do, said Tim; some big 
 fellows made Biggies get rid of his ; they said 
 it disturbed them when they wanted to do 
 their verses. 
 
 Why, if thai s all ! cried the irrepressible, 
 1 as sure as my name s Skelton, the thing for 
 you is dormice : they don t sing now, do 
 they? he added, with engaging humour; 
 
v TIM 105 
 
 they won t disturb no one s verses now, they 
 won t. 
 
 There was no resisting the dormice. As 
 Mr. Skelton fished the little balls of soft fur 
 out of the hay in an old cigar -box, barred 
 across the top with some bits of wire, Tim s 
 heart went out to them. There and then the 
 bargain was completed, and Mr. Skelton 
 chuckled as he jingled the coin transferred in 
 the transaction, in his black and horny palm. 
 
 That s a rum little lot, he remarked re 
 flectively, as he watched the little figure 
 balancing the big hat trotting down the sunny 
 street with its new possession. Most on 
 em, they comes in and they turns the place 
 upside down, and they lets out the rats, and 
 pokes the ferrets ; and it s " Skelton, what s 
 this?" and "Skelton, ere," and "Skelton, 
 there," and "Quick, please, I m in a urry,"- 
 they re always in a urry. But this one, e s as 
 sober and old-fashioned as a little judge, and e 
 argifies and explains, and e says " No, thank 
 you," and he pays is money too : ah ! and e 
 
io6 TIM CHAP. 
 
 won t go on tick neither ; e ain t like most 
 on em. 
 
 The subject of this character-study had 
 meanwhile been visited by a sudden thought, 
 which he was inclined to regard almost as an 
 inspiration. He felt with painful acuteness 
 the barrier that had sprung up between him 
 self and Carol. Their relations were as 
 different from what he had hoped as they well 
 could be. The most elementary knowledge 
 of school-life would have shown him that this 
 was inevitable. But knowledge of life, school 
 or otherwise, was just what Tim was farthest 
 from possessing. He remembered Carol s 
 fondness for his squirrel and for all animals ; 
 he knew that they could not be companions 
 and friends as he had dreamed that they 
 might, but surely it was in his power to make 
 Carol think of him sometimes. He thought 
 over his plan carefully on all sides, and by 
 the time he reached his tutor s, had come to 
 the conclusion that there could be nothing 
 against it. 
 
v TIM 107 
 
 When Carol came in to change before 
 dinner, he was not a little astonished to find 
 on his table a little cage fitted up with a sort 
 of treadmill, and containing two dormice fast 
 asleep in a handful of hay. He searched in 
 vain for any superscription that might explain 
 this eccentric gift, and finally came to the 
 conclusion it must be a joke of some of his 
 friends. Several of his intimates were sum 
 moned, but denied all knowledge of the affair. 
 
 1 It must be that brute the hyena, said 
 Villidge minor. It s just the sort of thing 
 he d think funny. 
 
 But the youth known to his associates as 
 the hyena because, as the matron expressed 
 it, he was prone to risibility, protested, on 
 being appealed to, that he was as innocent as 
 the rest. 
 
 If Curly has an unknown admirer whose 
 tribute takes the form of the smaller varieties 
 of mammalia, I don t see why / should be 
 held responsible. 
 
 At dinner Barley s mysterious present 
 
io8 TIM CHAP. 
 
 was the great topic and joke of the top table. 
 Carol bore all the bantering good-naturedly, 
 but after a good deal of it began to feel a 
 little put out. To be the object of a joke 
 was a new position to him, and he didn t like 
 it. He had a perfect gathering in his room 
 after two, to look at the wretched little 
 animals, slumbering peacefully through all 
 the disturbance they were creating. It being 
 apparently impossible to discover who had put 
 this affront upon him, the next question was 
 how to get rid of the creatures. To keep 
 dormice like a scug of a lower boy was of 
 course out of the question. 
 
 Meanwhile no echoes of the mirth in the 
 upper circles of the house penetrated as far 
 down in the social scale as Tim, who was 
 serenely pluming himself on his tact and dis 
 cretion. He had debated at first what would 
 be the right thing to write with this present, 
 and had at last solved the difficulty by deposit 
 ing the offering anonymously. He will guess 
 whom they are from, he thought; no one else 
 
v 77 M 109 
 
 would think of such a thing, or knows how 
 he cares for animals ; he will say something 
 at fagging-time. For Carol had fulfilled his 
 promise of taking Tim for his fag, explain 
 ing the apparent eccentricity of his choice to 
 the expostulating Villidge major, who was 
 captain of the house, by saying that he knew 
 him at home, and that fifteen minutes of 
 bondage, at which most of the small boys 
 muttered and grumbled, became to Ebbesley 
 the happiest time of the day, for then he was 
 sure of a smile and a kind word, and each 
 piece of toast made for his hero s consump 
 tion became a labour of love ; he scorched 
 his face and burnt his fingers with perfect 
 equanimity, and thought scorn of Biggies, 
 whom he once detected doing his master s 
 toast at the gas. On this particular evening, 
 however, when he appeared as usual, Carol 
 seemed preoccupied, and rather sulky ; he 
 only said, Let s see, have you made your 
 three bits, and the tea ? All right, there s 
 nothing else ; you can go. 
 
I 10 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Tim made some excuse to loiter a minute 
 or two, apparently busy at the cupboard, and 
 hazarded a furtive glance round the room in 
 search of his present. The little cage was 
 reposing on the top of the bed, jammed in 
 between a big Liddell and Scott and some 
 fives gloves, where it had been stuck by the 
 maid when she cleared the table for tea. 
 Just then Carol s messmate arrived, accom 
 panied by his fag, and plunged anew into 
 the topic of the day. 
 
 Well, Curly; found out who sent the 
 dormice ? 
 
 Carol answered with what was for him to 
 display considerable irritation, I wish to 
 goodness I could; I d give the fellow as 
 good a kicking as ever he had in his life. 
 
 Well, I can dispose of em for you any 
 way ; here s Weston will take em off your 
 hands and ask no questions. And giving the 
 cage and its inmates to his fag, he added, 
 laughing, There, it s an ill wind that blows 
 no one good ; I m sure you ve been dying 
 
v TIM 1 1 1 
 
 for some dormice all the half, haven t you, 
 Weston ? and I know you never keep any 
 money after the first week. 
 
 Tommy, astonished but nothing loth, 
 carried off his booty grinning ; and Tim, who 
 till then had not trusted himself to look round, 
 got out of the room as best he could. In 
 the passage he found his brother fag pausing 
 to examine his treasures. 
 
 Hulloa, Skinny ! he exclaimed, as Tim 
 drew near, here s a queer go : what on earth 
 should make Darley give me a couple of dor 
 mice ? I went in expecting to get pulled for 
 burning the toast, and see what I get instead 
 of a pitching into. 
 
 Tim had got under a gas-lamp, so that 
 his face was black and invisible, but when 
 he tried to speak, Tommy looked up 
 suddenly. 
 
 Why, you re blubbing, he said; what- 
 ever s the matter ? 
 
 For all answer Ebbesley darted into his 
 own room, which was not far distant, whither, 
 
112 TIM CHAP. 
 
 with mingled curiosity and alarm, the other 
 followed him. 
 
 What s up ? he asked, not unsympathetic- 
 ally ; and Tim, feeling he must tell some 
 one, sobbed out 
 
 * Oh ! Weston, it was me who got the 
 dormice, and I thought he d like them ; you 
 know I knew him at home, and he used to 
 have a squirrel ; I forgot it was some time 
 ago and and but Tommy had collapsed 
 into the one chair and was shaking with 
 laughter ; the exquisite humour of the whole 
 affair was altogether too much for him. 
 
 Oh, don t, please don t ! cried Tim, to 
 whom the matter was deadly serious. If 
 Carol should hear, he d be angry with me ; 
 you heard what he said, and I meant to 
 please him. 
 
 What did you call him ? cried Weston. 
 "Carol"! What a name ! Oh, don t I just 
 wish I was a little bigger or he a little lower 
 down ; wouldn t I chaff him. We ve always 
 wanted to know his name ; most fellows 
 
v TIM 113 
 
 thought it was only Charles or something, but 
 I knew it was something outlandish, because 
 he always had "C. Darley" on his letters, and 
 took such pains never to let it out. 
 
 Oh dear! said poor Tim, I seem to be 
 always doing the wrong thing ; please don t 
 say anything about it ; he wouldn t like it 
 and I couldn t bear him to be angry with me. 
 
 * What a baby it is, thought Weston, look 
 ing down at the tear-stained imploring face 
 before him. 
 
 But you ll keep the secret, urged Tim 
 despairingly ; never tell any one about the 
 dormice. 
 
 Something in his utter childishness 
 touched the softer side of Tommy s callous 
 little-boy s heart. 
 
 Yes, I promise, he said ; and he kept his 
 word. 
 
 I say, you know/ he said next day to Tim, 
 meeting him in one of the passages, I ve 
 been thinking, Skinny, those dormice are really 
 yours, you know; you ought to have them. 
 
H4 TIM CHAP, v 
 
 Oh no, no ! cried poor Skinny vehe 
 mently, I never want to see them again ; and 
 and thank you always for keeping the 
 secret. 
 
 So Tommy kept both the secret and the 
 dormice until, once going home ill for a week, 
 and leaving no directions as to their nourish 
 ment, he found on his return that one of them 
 had succumbed to this prolonged fast, which 
 so distressed him that he made over the cage 
 and the survivor to a friend. 
 
 But the fates were busy with those dormice. 
 His new possessor, thinking that a little 
 sunshine would be good for the shattered 
 constitution of the widower, left him on the 
 window-sill when he went to school, and 
 whether it was the wind, the boys maid, or 
 the matron s cat, was never known ; but on 
 his return the little cage lay broken in the 
 street, and the last of his race was embarked 
 on a sleep such as even he had never com 
 passed in this world. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 How far too sweet for school he seemed to me ; 
 
 How ripe for combat with the wits of men ; 
 How childlike in his manhood. Ionica t //. 
 
 IT must not be supposed that life was 
 uniformly dark to Tim in these early days at 
 Eton. He had sources of happiness quite 
 distinct from his glimpses of Carol, which had 
 certainly turned out less satisfactory than his 
 hopes. After the dormice episode he was 
 shyer and more constrained in the presence 
 of his fag- master than ever. But he had 
 found and always kept a marvellously kind 
 understanding and tender friend in his tutor, 
 whose manly gentle soul went forth to this 
 forlorn little specimen of suffering humanity ; 
 he readily guessed that the path of such a 
 
ii6 TIM CHAP. 
 
 baby could not but be thorny, and though he 
 was necessarily obliged, for many reasons, to 
 ignore much of what he knew, and the whole 
 of what he suspected, he managed in a 
 hundred small ways to soften the existence of 
 the youngest and dreariest of his pupils. If 
 I do not say much of Tim s Eton tutor, and 
 the large part he filled in his history, it is 
 because, while among several thousand boys 
 who have passed through the school in the 
 last twenty years, to describe two or three is 
 fairly safe, it were quite otherwise to draw 
 anything like an accurate picture of one of 
 the comparatively few men who have filled the 
 post of tutor there during the same period. 
 So I may only note in passing the fact of his 
 untiring and thoughtful kindness, and the 
 grateful affection it elicited in return. His 
 study was a haven of refuge to Tim on many 
 a rainy after-four, while the employment said 
 by Dr. Watts to be provided for that class 
 of member was busily occupying numerous 
 pairs of idle hands in other parts of the 
 
vi TIM 117 
 
 house. There or on the banks of the kind 
 old river in the shady playing-fields he 
 spent long happy hours with Scott or 
 Shakespeare for companion. Mr. Ebbesley 
 was liberal in the matter of pocket-money, 
 and as Tim s tastes were not as a rule ex 
 pensive, he was able to revel in delightful 
 books. Had his examinations been in 
 authors of his own selection I have no 
 doubt he would have attained the highest 
 honours. 
 
 Another favourite resort of his was the 
 old chapel in the Castle at Windsor : the 
 grand quiet of the place, with its dim, coloured 
 light and ghostly armorial flags ranged over 
 head, soothed and comforted him after many 
 a bitter childish trial ; but the highest pleasure 
 came from the pealing organ and the pure 
 true voices of one of the best of English 
 choirs. To Tim, whose soul was full of 
 melody, but whose only experience of sacred 
 music had been the not very perfect perform 
 ances in the village church at home, the 
 
ii8 TIM CHAP. 
 
 grand outbursts of song which the great 
 musicians had given from their hearts to the 
 worship of God, were as waters in the desert. 
 The first time he heard the beautiful prayer 
 that Mendelssohn has wedded to immortal 
 music, the yearning for doves wings to fly 
 away and be at rest, rendered by a fresh 
 boy s voice, the tears gathered in his eyes, 
 and he forgot where he was, standing wrapped 
 in an ecstasy, his soul afloat on the wings of 
 the music. It seemed to him as if he and 
 this other boy no older than himself were 
 somehow one, that the pearly notes he was 
 listening to did not come from the shiny 
 emotionless little chorister whose mouth was 
 moving, but from the inmost depths of his 
 own heart. 
 
 Tim could not really sing a note, though 
 he would dearly have liked to ; but he often 
 had this feeling afterwards, in the following 
 winter, when he joined the musical society 
 and used to sit silent and happy between 
 two deep-lunged little monsters, and have all 
 
vi TIM . 119 
 
 the sensation of pouring forth his being in 
 song. Carol, who had a lusty baritone, and 
 a fondness for music of the more robust and 
 cheerful order, having been ordered to recruit 
 trebles at his tutor s, and finding the lower 
 boys for the most part unwilling to display 
 their accomplishments, had had recourse in 
 despair to his fag, who was of course en 
 chanted with the prospect. 
 
 I m afraid I shan t be much use, but I 
 should like to come, he said modestly, and 
 come he did with exemplary punctuality. 
 
 His relations with his contemporaries were 
 still, for the most part, lacking in cordiality. 
 He had no gift of making himself known to 
 them, and they were not sufficiently interested 
 in him to take trouble in getting to know 
 him. The discovery at the beginning of the 
 Michaelmas half that he was forbidden to 
 play football, set the finishing touch to the 
 contempt his house-fellows were inclined to 
 entertain for him, and except in school or at 
 the musical society he came in contact with 
 
1 20 TIM CHAP. 
 
 no boys but such as boarded at his tutor s. 
 There was one youth, however, who, contrary 
 to all likelihood, took a desultory interest in 
 Tim, and that was Tommy Weston. The 
 episode of the dormice had disclosed to 
 Tommy certain things about Tim that lay 
 outside the range of his daily observation of 
 life and character, and being of an inquiring 
 turn of mind, he determined to frequent this 
 new specimen of boy, taking at first a purely 
 analytic and microscopic view of him, with 
 which, as the weeks went by, something of a 
 kindlier and more human sentiment began to 
 mingle. I don t know what has become of 
 Tommy Weston since, but in those days he 
 promised to be a very remarkable man. He 
 possessed indomitable tenacity and strength 
 of purpose, coupled with a mercurial gaiety 
 of temperament, endless patience, entire dis 
 regard of public opinion, immense courage, 
 a keen sense of the ridiculous, and a com 
 posure and self-possession on which the most 
 trying circumstances were powerless to pro- 
 
vi TIM 121 
 
 duce any effect. To Tim he was a most 
 marvellous outcome. At first the little boy 
 was rather alarmed by this remarkable 
 phenomenon, though humbly grateful for 
 his attentions, but by degrees he came to be 
 more at home with him, and Tommy was the 
 only person to whom he ever confided some 
 part of his feeling for Carol ; only a very 
 little and in moments of rare expansion, for 
 Tommy was not sentimental, and regarded 
 subjective conversation as more or less profit 
 less. But the shy revelations of character 
 made by Tim struck him, as I have said, as 
 a queer start, and as such were regarded 
 by him with a wonder which that youth was 
 glad to mistake for sympathy. It is cer 
 tainly not on the principle of Mary and the 
 lamb, he said to himself, that Skinny s 
 partiality can be explained, for Barley don t 
 "love the lamb, you know." Fancy Skinny 
 wandering into tutor s upper set at private, 
 and Villidge and all of em hollering out in 
 pupil-room, " What makes the lamb love Curly 
 
122 TIM CHAP. 
 
 so ?" and he was so tickled by the weird- 
 ness of this notion that he accosted Tim as 
 lambkin next time he saw him, and chuckled 
 to himself, remarking generally, What rot 
 nursery rhymes were, in a manner calculated 
 to mystify that simple-minded young person. 
 Indeed, he was in such high good-humour 
 that he invited him into his room, an apart 
 ment decorated with all manner of ingenious 
 inventions from designs of Tommy s own ; 
 such as an elaborate apparatus in which the 
 poker was involved for shutting the window 
 without leaving bed, and another by which 
 water was discharged on any assailant who 
 might attempt to turn the sleeping inhabitant 
 up in that piece of furniture. This last 
 machine, which was constructed with much 
 ingenuity out of a bandbox, a broken jug, 
 seven yards of twine, the leg of one of his 
 chairs (propped, in the absence of its limb, on 
 his hat-box), and the cover of his Gradus, 
 was subsequently destroyed by his tutor, 
 after deluging the matron (Tommy swore 
 
vi TIM 123 
 
 accidentally), who was coming to administer 
 medicine when he stayed out in collection- 
 week. These and similar treasures were 
 displayed to the wondering eyes of Skinny, 
 as well as a cardboard box in which he kept 
 the prime fetishes of his worship ; his name, 
 which it is hardly necessary to mention was 
 not Tommy, and the date of his birth, written 
 very neatly in his own blood, a sheet of broad 
 rule completely covered with a design in 
 concentric and intersecting circles, of which 
 the object did not distinctly appear, and 
 another, on which he had jotted down the 
 numbers of all the cabs he had ever ridden 
 in, on his rare visits to the metropolis, and 
 reduced the added result, by some process 
 inscrutable by the unmathematical mind, to 
 pounds, shillings, and pence. 
 
 Now it happened one Sunday in the Lent 
 term when the flats around Eton were swept 
 by a relentless east wind, that Tommy had 
 agreed with a kindred soul from another 
 house to go with him to the Ditton woods 
 
124 TIM CHAP. 
 
 and gather primroses ; not that the primrose 
 by the river s brim was anything more to 
 either of them than the yellow primrose it was 
 to the gentleman in the poem, but it lent an 
 object to their walk, and a delicious flavour of 
 the illegal in the combined facts that they 
 would trespass, and very probably be late for 
 lock-up, which in those days, when chapel was 
 at three, closed the period of Sunday afternoon 
 leisure. Whether Tommy s friend was de 
 tected talking in chapel and made to stay at 
 home and do his Sunday questions, or merely 
 turned lazy and preferred to read a book by 
 the fire, I have no means of deciding with 
 certainty ; but the fact remains that he threw 
 Tommy over when it was too late to make 
 other arrangements, to the no small disgust of 
 Master Weston, who was not fond of abandon 
 ing any enterprise he had once formed. In 
 these straits he bethought him of Tim, who 
 was quite sure to have no engagement, and 
 went in search of him. Tim was writing his 
 weekly letter to his father, but consented 
 
vi TIM 125 
 
 readily to accompany him, if he would wait 
 till he had finished ; and the concluding sen 
 tences were rendered even more laborious 
 than usual to the scribe, by the distracting 
 behaviour of his companion, who was occupy 
 ing the interval with a sort of highland fling, 
 while he sang to a well-known Scottish air, 
 just then familiarised to Southern ears by the 
 base uses of a comic song, these remarkable 
 words 
 
 Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, 
 
 Oh, Jerusalem, the costermonger s donkey. 
 
 Oh ! please, Tommy, don t make that 
 dreadful noise, said poor Tim. ( How can I 
 get done ? 
 
 Dreadful noise, indeed ! it s a Sabbath 
 hymn, you profane little wretch, retorted the 
 irrepressible, at the same time pulling Tim s 
 inky pen upwards through his fingers, to teach 
 him, as he said, proper respect to his elders. 
 
 At length the epistle was concluded, and 
 when Tommy had stuck the stamps on wrong 
 side up in the bottom left-hand corner (which 
 
126 TIM CHAP. 
 
 called forth a severe little lecture on slovenly 
 ways in Tim s next letter from home) they 
 started on their walk. Through the College 
 and playing-fields all went well, but once in 
 the open fields beyond, their progress was 
 considerably retarded by various skirmishes 
 with the class magnificently lumped together 
 by the boys, in their sublime innocent snobbish 
 ness, as cads, and including the sons of all 
 tradesmen, farmers, and the labouring classes 
 generally, who happened to inhabit the neigh 
 bourhood. There was not a cad within 
 miles with whom Tommy was not on intimate 
 terms ; he knew the Christian names, pursuits, 
 and family history of every old man or woman 
 who drove into Eton for purposes of trade 
 and barter, the commodities in which they 
 dealt, and the days when they might be 
 expected. There was one elderly lady whom 
 he addressed as Sarah, and to whom he 
 invariably offered marriage, regardless of the 
 fact that she was a matron of many years 
 standing ; and an old man in a red waistcoat, 
 
vi TIM 127 
 
 who had business relations with some one in 
 the town, would hang about for hours watch 
 ing for an opportunity to slip unnoticed past 
 the window from which this awful boy had a 
 torrent of ever-varying chaff and nicknames 
 ready to pour out upon him on all occasions. 
 With the rising generation of cad-dom, the 
 lads of his own age or a little older, his 
 relations were, however, by no means so 
 friendly. He had fought with nearly all, and 
 licked most ; and on the few Herculean youths 
 who had succeeded in forcing him to beat 
 a retreat his vengeance had subsequently 
 descended, when their evil stars led them to 
 pass his dwelling, in the form of coals, sugar, 
 earth from his flower-box, or the inside round 
 of paper off the tops of raspberry jam ; 
 sometimes the pot itself, if nearly empty qf its 
 succulent contents, would startle the echoes of 
 a dark night as it crashed to ruin against the 
 palings of the opposite house, while a muttered 
 curse succeeded the jaunty whistling of the 
 passing victim. 
 
128 TIM CHAP. 
 
 The two boys were crossing a ploughed 
 field where the ridges on which they stepped 
 crumbled beneath their feet, dry and powdery 
 under the March wind, when they encountered 
 a detachment of small boys of the class de 
 scribed above, headed by a youth a few years 
 older than the rest, who wore his hat on one 
 side in a raffish manner, calculated to provoke 
 remark. Tommy inquired politely if it was 
 stuck on with glue, or how otherwise it 
 retained its position. 
 
 Just you old your row, young Weston, 
 retorted the insulted party ; I knows you ; 
 thus implying some mysterious secret hold 
 over Tommy, which that youth was hasty to 
 repudiate. 
 
 Take care not to come too close, he 
 replied with studied moderation, or I may 
 hurt you. 
 
 What, you ? You re too young and too 
 small ; it one o your own size, said the 
 champion, and all the satellites applauded. 
 
 Tommy, feeling the moment for decisive 
 
vi TIM 129 
 
 action had arrived, made a threatening 
 advance, whereupon the small fry scattered 
 and fled ; and their leader, seeing himself 
 abandoned by his myrmidons, also retired, 
 but in good order, and still hurling taunts, 
 which increased in bitterness in proportion as 
 the chances of pursuit seemed to grow less. 
 Tim, I need not say, was made very unhappy 
 by this sort of encounter ; and what with 
 these numerous delays and the fact that they 
 had started late for their walk, the brief 
 afternoon was already far spent when they 
 arrived at the paling they must climb to enter 
 the Park. Tim pulled out his watch and 
 looked at it doubtfully. 
 
 We haven t more than time to get home 
 before lock-up, he said. 
 
 Well ? inquired Tommy, who was already 
 astride upon the paling, as though Tim had 
 started some question entirely foreign to the 
 matter in hand. 
 
 If we go. on, we shall be late, persisted 
 Tim. 
 
 K 
 
130 TIM CHAP. 
 
 1 Oh ! is that all ? said Tommy, who had 
 a sublime contempt for law when it interfered 
 in any way with what he proposed to himself 
 to do. As I have said, the primroses were 
 less than nothing to him, but having started 
 to pick primroses, primroses he would pick, 
 and a lion in the path would not have deterred 
 him for a moment. Now Tim had, on the 
 contrary, profound respect for law and order, 
 and if he unwittingly transgressed the most 
 formal of little school-rules, felt unhappy and 
 criminal for days afterwards. 
 
 c I think I shall go back/ he said after a 
 pause. 
 
 You may do as you please/ said his 
 companion ; / m going to get primroses/ and 
 therewith he slid down on the other side of 
 the paling and was lost to view. ( Are you 
 coming ? he shouted back. 
 
 Tim still stood irresolute : he was alone. 
 Tommy having vanished, it seemed easier to 
 withstand his influence than when under that 
 cold eye from the top of the fence. He was 
 
vi TIM 131 
 
 cold ; he did not want to be out late ; he did 
 not want to get a pcena ; above all, he did 
 not want to shirk fagging. 
 
 I shall go back, he persisted, and he 
 went. 
 
 Give my love to tutor, Tommy called 
 from within, and tell him not to worry about 
 me ; I shall most likely be back for early 
 school to-morrow. 
 
 Tim had a dreary walk homewards ; the 
 wind, which had before been with them, was 
 now in his face, and he had to butt at it, head 
 down, and hands deep in his trouser-pockets. 
 Discomforts became prominent which had 
 before only made a scarcely noticed back 
 ground to Tommy s enlivening conversation, 
 and the somewhat perilous excitement of his 
 passages of wit with the passers-by. Tim 
 began to wonder vaguely, not without terror, 
 whether he would fall into any of the wasps 
 nests that his companion had so successfully 
 stirred up as they came along. Visions of 
 angry cads, still smarting with a sense of 
 
132 TIM CHAP. 
 
 unavenged insults, flitted through his uneasy 
 mind, and caused him to hug the hedgerows 
 rather than launch across the bare fields, 
 where his figure would be a more conspicu 
 ous object. He tried to determine on a 
 course of action in case of attack. Tommy, 
 he had observed, advanced boldly in such 
 cases, assumed the aggressive attitude, and 
 the assailants fled ; it seemed to him a fresh 
 proof of the unsatisfactoriness with which 
 matters were arranged in this world, that the 
 people who seemed to possess the knack of 
 coming scot-free out of awkward situations 
 were precisely those to whom it was of least 
 importance to do so. Something told him 
 that it would be in vain for him to attempt 
 the same line as Tommy ; some irresolution 
 or faltering at the last minute would be sure 
 to betray him, and his assumed boldness 
 would only make his position the less 
 pleasant. The conviction was forced in 
 upon him that to make your antagonist 
 unwilling to fight, you must be genuinely 
 
vi TIM 133 
 
 anxious to do so. And in that case, 
 reasoned he, there would be no pleasure, but 
 the reverse, in seeing the other fellow sheer 
 off. All of which seemed to him mysterious 
 and unkind. It would surely have been as 
 easy to settle human nature on a plan that 
 should enable each individual to obtain what 
 he wanted. Nor were his apprehensions 
 altogether groundless. 
 
 As he passed along one of the leafless 
 hedges a hard object whizzed by him, and 
 rattled on the frozen turf beside him ; there 
 was little or no doubt it was a stone. 
 Through the hedge, which was thick and 
 tangled, though the leaves were off, he could 
 dimly detect moving forms and smothered 
 laughter. He tried to persuade himself that 
 the thrower had only aimed at something in 
 the hedge, and that if he kept quiet they 
 would pass on without noticing him ; so he 
 crouched down as close to the bank as 
 possible, and kept very still. 
 
 I am compelled as a truthful biographer 
 
134 TIM CHAP. 
 
 to admit that physical courage was not a 
 characteristic of my hero, and as he held his 
 breath in the undignified attitude he had 
 assumed, he could hear his heart beat loud 
 with apprehension. There was a pause, and 
 then a muttered conference, and presently 
 another stone followed the first. Placed as 
 he was, Tim was pretty safe, and two or 
 three succeeding missiles passed innocently 
 over him. Then came another pause ; the 
 attacking party were surprised that no 
 attempt was made to return fire, and they 
 feared an ambush. 
 
 The fact was that he of the hat had joined 
 forces with some other lads of his own size, 
 discarding the crew of weaklings who had 
 deserted him in his hour of need, and they 
 had taken up a position in which to waylay 
 Tommy on his return to Eton, and seize an 
 unique opportunity of wiping off old scores 
 by humiliating their enemy without doing him 
 any great injury. It is only fair to them to 
 state that there is no good ground for sup- 
 
vi TIM 135 
 
 posing that they deliberately attacked Tim 
 knowing him to be alone ; they probably 
 thought his warlike friend was with him, 
 and the stones were only meant to open the 
 affair, and force Tommy to disclose himself. 
 Having debated among themselves, they 
 could think of no better plan than to fire 
 another volley, which they accordingly did, 
 and Tim had closed his eyes and given him 
 self up for lost when he heard unmistakable 
 signs of terror and confusion behind the 
 hedge, and then the sound of a general 
 stampede of hastily retreating footsteps. 
 
 The next minute some one cleared the 
 hedge and alighted close to him, and a well- 
 known voice exclaimed, The brutes ! they 
 were rocking a little fellow ; I wish to good 
 ness I d caught one of them. Hullo! Eb- 
 besley, is that you ? Why, how the deuce 
 did you get into this sort of row ? 
 
 Tim hardly yet realised that it was Carol 
 who had dropped, as it were, out of the gray 
 sky for his deliverance, and who now stood 
 
136 TIM CHAP. 
 
 before him, with cheeks flushed by wind and 
 running, holding out large kind hands to pull 
 him on to his feet again. He felt relieved 
 and grateful, and yet somewhat ashamed of 
 the position in which he had been discovered, 
 and began hastily to explain 
 
 I had gone to walk with Weston, and he 
 said something to that fellow, and he didn t 
 like it, and Weston went after him, and he 
 ran away ; and then we separated, because I 
 wanted to get back 
 
 And our friend meanwhile conceived the 
 brilliant plan of lying in wait for you, and shy 
 ing stones at you from behind a hedge. What 
 distinguished bravery ! interrupted Villidge 
 minor, who had been with Carol, and who now 
 joined the party through an adjacent gap. 
 
 What an infernal coward ! cried Darley, 
 whose eyes flashed with martial ardour. 
 
 He is, luckily for him, beyond the reach 
 of chastisement for the present, rejoined the 
 more phlegmatic Villidge ; though I flatter 
 myself that a well-directed pebble was not 
 
vi TIM 137 
 
 altogether without effect on the calf of his leg. 
 You d better cut home, Ebbesley, if you want 
 to be in time for lock-up, and thank your 
 stars Darley and I happened to come along 
 when we did. Tim would have liked to 
 thank them, but found no words, so trotted 
 off as fast as his legs would carry him. 
 
 It s just as I thought, Curly, continued 
 Villidge, as he and Carol followed at a more 
 leisurely pace ; it s that little monster Weston 
 who has brought your unhappy fag into the 
 scrape in which we found him. I saw them 
 together the other day, and reflected that 
 collapse must sooner or later be the fate of 
 such a frail little vessel in the same stream 
 with such an iron pot as Master Tommy. 
 
 But Carol did not at once answer; he 
 was watching the queer little figure scudding 
 along in front of them, and the sight of that 
 small form buffeted by the bitter weather 
 somehow suggested to him how unfit such a 
 creature must be to fight his way through 
 the rough places of lower-boy life. 
 
138 TIM CHAP. 
 
 1 Do you remember/ Villidge continued, 
 also looking at Tim, how much exercised 
 you were when Ebbesley first came as to 
 what you could do for him, in the way of 
 looking after him, and that sort of thing ? 
 I m thinking that this piece of knight-errantry 
 of yours in his behalf comes most happily to 
 solve the difficulty ; you could hardly have 
 done him a better turn, or looked after him 
 to more purpose than by snatching him from 
 the fate of the first martyr. 
 
 There s not much knight -what s -his- 
 name in having a lot of lubberly beasts run 
 away when you look at em, replied Carol 
 modestly. Seriously though, it had just 
 occurred to me that perhaps I hadn t done 
 all I might have to make that poor little 
 fellow s life easy to him. 
 
 I can t see that it is incumbent on you to 
 act dry-nurse to all my tutor s scugs ; you 
 might keep a piece of pumice-stone in your 
 room to take the ink off their grimy little 
 hands, or save up the rough copies of your 
 
vi TIM 139 
 
 verses to stuff your young friend s hat, and 
 keep it a hair s-breadth or two higher above 
 his ears, but I really don t see what else you 
 could do for him. 
 
 * Don t you think such a boy as that must 
 be rather bullied among the small fellows ? 
 
 Oh ! I daresay not a bit more than is 
 good for him ; and besides, if Tommy s 
 taken him up he ll be all right ; for though 
 he ll probably land him in rows with the 
 beaks, he s an oracle among the lower 
 boys, and if he says he s a good sort, they ll 
 all discover they always said so. So don t 
 make yourself unhappy about him. 
 
 And as Carol was not fond of making 
 himself unhappy, he took the advice. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Happy places have grown holy ; 
 
 If we went where once we went, 
 Only tears would fall down slowly 
 
 As at solemn sacrament. 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 IT is not my intention to trace in detail 
 Tim s career at school, which, after all, pre 
 sents few points of interest. His first two 
 years were certainly not a period of unmixed 
 enjoyment ; but other boys before and after 
 him have gone through much the same ex 
 perience without taking much harm from it. 
 And after a time boys get tired of persecution, 
 as of other pursuits. It is not worth their 
 while to continue to bully, unless there is 
 some special reason for it, and in Tim s case 
 there was none ; his offences were all purely 
 
CHAP, vii TIM 141 
 
 negative, sins of omission, absence of qualities 
 decreed to be necessary to salvation by the 
 Vehm-gericht of collective boyhood through 
 many generations. 
 
 Villidge was right to a certain extent in 
 his prophecy of the good effects likely to 
 spring .from the patronage of Tommy. 
 There is little or no doubt that Tim s 
 ultimate admission to a recognised social 
 
 o 
 
 standing owed its first small beginnings to 
 his intimacy with that eccentric youth. Boys 
 go in flocks ; and if it is the fashion to treat 
 one of their number with unkindness, while 
 the active throw each his little stone, the 
 passive turn aside and stop their ears to the 
 victim s groans. We are not all thieves, and 
 are in the habit of returning thanks for that 
 fact, but when a fellow-traveller has fallen in 
 with a band of these gentry, the proportion 
 of Samaritans to priests and Levites is not 
 large, and nowhere smaller than among boys. 
 But when the tide turns, and some one with 
 more character than the rest picks up the 
 
142 TIM CHAP. 
 
 wounded comrade and gives him a word of 
 encouragement, pronouncing him not such a 
 very bad lot/ the rest veer round, and peace 
 is restored. It is impossible to fix the exact 
 date of the change ; the deliverance is as 
 intangible as the persecution. To Tim it 
 came far more slowly than Villidge, with 
 his happy knack of establishing coincidence 
 between his wishes and probability, had 
 foretold for the comfort of Darley s uneasy 
 conscience. 
 
 It is true that Weston was popular among 
 his contemporaries, but at the time of the 
 Ditton expedition he was still in Fourth 
 Form, and the Remove little boys, though 
 they frequented him freely and to a certain 
 extent admired him, would not have ac 
 cepted his opinion of a third person where it 
 differed in any way from their own. But a 
 young man who had been for almost two 
 years in Fifth Form could not be expected to 
 recollect these subtle distinctions of lower-boy 
 life. 
 
vii TIM 143 
 
 The leaven was working surely, however. 
 Tommy stuck staunchly to his protege, as 
 they mounted the lowest rungs in the ladder 
 together, and by Tim s third summer-half, 
 when he had been two years at Eton, had 
 learnt to keep his fingers freer from ink, and 
 to wear hats that fitted him, he stood firmly 
 on a platform from which he could look back 
 with tolerable equanimity on his past troubles. 
 This half Fifth Form would open its portals 
 to him, and he would cease to be a lower boy ; 
 but, alas ! this was also Carol s last half at 
 school, and little as had come of his dreamed- 
 of companionship, that was a thought on 
 which Tim could hardly trust himself to 
 dwell. He had made a few little acquaint 
 anceships since it had become the fashion to 
 find good in him, and was no longer desolate, 
 but he did not make friends readily, and these 
 new connections with the world around him 
 left quite untouched the old ruling devotion 
 of his life whose roots were very deep in him 
 indeed. Carol was almost more his hero 
 
144 TIM CHAP. 
 
 than ever. The very separateness of their 
 respective positions served to enhance his 
 devotion. It seemed quite right and natural 
 that Carol should be a king among men, 
 should stand at the corner of the street with 
 other godlike beings, his peers yet how 
 immeasurably below him in the estimation 
 of his faithful admirer should carry a cane 
 (badge of the greatest honour!) at football 
 matches in the winter, and play cricket for 
 the eleven in summer. His walls were 
 decorated with caps of many colours the 
 eleven, the Field, the house cap, and many 
 more. Pewter cups won in athletic con 
 tests occupied little carved brackets over 
 his chimney-piece, and the rules of Pop 
 framed in pale blue ribbon sprawled over 
 half the available space on one side of 
 his little room. In short, he was the 
 typical swell or successful public-school 
 boy, and a very kindly, gentle, magnanimous 
 fellow into the bargain, as became his great 
 ness. 
 
vii TIM 145 
 
 Tim used to trot off to the playing-fields 
 in those long hot days, and lie there under 
 the trees, watching the light athletic figure 
 clad in white flannel springing hither and 
 thither in the game, till the other boys, 
 knowing his indifference to their sports, 
 wondered sometimes at the regularity of his 
 attendance at all the cricket matches. 
 
 It was Saturday after-twelve, and Tim 
 was occupying his usual corner, with his rug 
 spread on the edge of the shadow, and a half- 
 eaten bag of cherries beside him. The first 
 innings was just over, and Carol, released 
 from his duties in the field, came sauntering 
 round the ground arm-in-arm with another 
 magnificent young cricketer like himself. 
 Tim was turning his attention, no longer 
 claimed by the game, to the firm red fruit, 
 when he heard his name spoken in the voice 
 that never failed to make his nerves thrill. 
 
 Hulloa, Ebbesley ! said his lord and fag- 
 master loftily, but not unkindly, what are 
 you up to ? Wasting your time as usual, eh ? 
 
 L 
 
146 TIM CHAP. 
 
 I was looking at you, answered the little 
 boy simply and truthfully, wholly unaware 
 that his reply partook of the nature of 
 repartee. Carol flushed and looked a little 
 annoyed ; then he laughed. 
 
 That s one for me, anyhow, he said, as he 
 resumed his walk. 
 
 * Who s your young friend ? asked his 
 companion. 
 
 My fag ; he s one of the queerest little 
 beggars I ever saw ; I know him at home, 
 and am supposed to look after him. I ve 
 been trying for two years to discover the 
 meaning of the term, and the duties con 
 nected with it. 
 
 You ve some cheek, answering Darley 
 like that, said the stout Sawnders, who, too 
 lazy to bring down a rug, and having neither 
 money nor credit wherewith to obtain cherries, 
 had decided to bestow his company on Tim 
 in return for a share of those luxuries. 
 
 I didn t mean to be cheeky, said Tim, 
 aghast ; do you suppose he was angry ? 
 
vii TIM 14? 
 
 I don t believe he half liked it, before 
 another swell ; he got very red. 
 
 Oh dear me ! said Tim wearily, I seem 
 always to say the wrong thing/ 
 
 1 Well, you d better come back to my 
 tutor s now, anyway, said Sawnders ; it s a 
 quarter to two, and they won t begin the next 
 innings before dinner. 
 
 As they went towards College, Tim, whose 
 mind was busy with the thought that he had 
 offended Carol, felt himself taken by the 
 scruff of the neck, and turning to expostulate, 
 found himself in the grasp of his tutor, who 
 regarded him with keen friendly eyes. 
 Well, little boy, he said, have you been 
 looking at the match ? 
 
 1 Yes, sir. 
 
 All after twelve ? 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 1 And you mean to come back after four ? 
 
 * Yes, I think so, sir. 
 
 1 Have you done all your work ? 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
148 TIM CHAP. 
 
 * Then I think you had much better come 
 out with me. You don t care a rap about 
 cricket, I know, and only come here to loaf. 
 
 Mr. and I are going to drive to Burnham 
 
 Beeches this afternoon, and walk back after 
 tea. You and Sawnders can come too, and 
 when you see Weston, you may request the 
 pleasure of his company, if his engagements 
 in Sixpenny and his numerous punishments 
 will permit. 
 
 Oh, thank you, sir ; that will be jolly ! 
 
 So the little boys scudded off in search of 
 Tommy, whom they found with his head in a 
 basin of water, preparing for dinner. They 
 communicated their tutor s message, while he 
 sputtered in his towel. Tommy was already 
 relatively for his age a celebrity in the cricket 
 ing world, and doubted if a whole after-four 
 could be spared from that game. 
 
 As to the pcenas, to-morrow s Sunday, and 
 I shall have lots of time to do them. I ve only 
 got the eleven o clock lesson to write out and 
 translate four times, and a hundred lines, and 
 
vii TIM 149 
 
 three copies of extra work. Well, hang Six 
 penny for once; I ll devote this afternoon to 
 the beauties of nature. 
 
 * I like tea at that cottage, said Sawnders 
 meditatively. They have such good bread 
 and butter, and real cream, and I shouldn t 
 wonder if tutor took a cake. 
 
 Sawnders, you re a white hog, said 
 Tommy ; ( Skinny and I are above such trifles. 
 I hope there ll be jam. 
 
 It was a lovely afternoon in the late hay- 
 harvest, and the drive was delightful. The 
 last of the wild roses still lingered in the 
 hedges, and the little grass that remained 
 uncut was starred with great white field 
 daisies. The boys on the back seat of the fly, 
 in change coats and straw hats, were in a 
 holiday mood, and full of silly talk. Tommy 
 had mounted the box, and sat beside the 
 driver, of whom he was an old friend, and it 
 was not till the vehicle very nearly carried 
 away the gate-post on Dorney Common that he 
 was discovered to be in possession of the reins. 
 
1 50 TIM CHAP. 
 
 * We had better leave Eton by the quiet 
 way, his tutor had said ; there are so many 
 of the authorities who have just claims on 
 Weston s leisure, that we shall never get him 
 safe out of the place if we attempt to drive 
 through College. 
 
 Of this delightful man s pleasant relations 
 with his pupils I have spoken elsewhere. 
 Mr. Ebbesley, who had been brought up at 
 a private school, and in the good old days 
 when boys regarded their schoolmaster as 
 their natural enemy, had looked forward, not, 
 it is to be feared, with unmixed dissatisfaction, 
 to the idea that his son would turn to him for 
 sympathy and help in the inevitable scrapes 
 which official severity was apt to magnify 
 into crimes. He had made his first visit 
 to Eton after Tim s admission prepared of 
 course to uphold authority and do all that 
 was right and proper, but determined not 
 to be too severe with the boy for his trans 
 gressions of the rigid letter of school law ; he 
 was going to be very large-minded and under- 
 
vii TIM 151 
 
 standing. And behold ! there had been no 
 thing to sympathise about ; above all, nothing 
 to condone. The little boy was so law-abiding 
 that he could have lived without transgression 
 under a far stricter code, and whereas he had 
 been cold and somewhat uncommunicative on 
 several other points, he kindled into some 
 thing very like enthusiasm when he spoke of 
 his tutor s kindness to him. Mr. Ebbesley 
 told himself that he was very glad it was so, 
 but it seemed to him hard to be the only 
 person without the power of awakening his 
 son s affection. 
 
 Is it not significant that this chapter, which 
 is the happiest in my story, should be one of 
 the shortest ? This was a day in Tim s life 
 in which birds sang and flowers bloomed for 
 him, and for twelve hours the murmur of the 
 sad undercurrent that flows all through his 
 history had faded from the ear. For my part, 
 I am so glad to think of this afternoon s 
 pleasure that he had, that I cannot refrain 
 from leaving it on record, though it does not 
 
152 TIM CHAP. 
 
 advance the action of my drama, a considera 
 tion which I am well aware a writer is bound 
 to respect. I have been to Burnham at all 
 seasons of the year, from earliest spring, when 
 there is hardly a wash of green on the noble 
 trees, to latest autumn, when the ground is 
 ankle-deep in glorious colour, and it would be 
 hard to say when there is most beauty there. 
 I have never visited the spot in midwinter, 
 but I am quite sure that if one did the 
 familiar glades would have some appropriate 
 charm for his delight, so regularly does 
 each season lend its own especial gifts to deck 
 that favoured place. At Tim s age, as a rule, 
 a love of nature for her own sake is a rare 
 possession ; it is a compensation kept to 
 console older people for the loss of so many 
 other enjoyments that then made the world 
 bright to them. But perhaps it was because 
 his young life was so lacking in the ordinary 
 elements of boyish happiness, that this gift 
 of later age was vouchsafed to our little lad. 
 Certainly the sunlight on the smooth gray 
 
vii TIM 153 
 
 trunks, and the peculiar dappled shadows on 
 the sward that only beech-leaves can cast, had 
 a secret to tell him on this blest half-holiday, 
 which would have been Hebrew and Greek 
 to his two playmates. I think it must have 
 been this knowledge of the country as the 
 anodyne for bruised hearts, which made As 
 You Like It his favourite play, for Tim read 
 Shakespeare, in Mr. Bowdler s edition with 
 which his father had taken care to provide 
 him. Burnham was Tim s Ardennes, and 
 it would hardly have surprised him to 
 come on the cousins walking in the wood 
 while Touchstone lay hard by among the 
 bracken. 
 
 By this time, however, he knew too much 
 to communicate such fancies as these to his 
 companions. The three ran down steep 
 places, jumped off banks into heaps of last 
 year s leaves that still lay piled in some of 
 the hollows, and climbed the trees, on one of 
 which Tommy, who was certainly very unlike 
 Orlando in other respects, inscribed his own 
 
154 TIM CHAP. 
 
 initials and those of the party, including his 
 tutor, who is ignorant to this day of the liberty 
 taken with his signature. 
 
 Tim ran, climbed, and shouted like the 
 others, and enjoyed himself amazingly. He 
 and Sawnders entrenched themselves in a 
 hollow tree which Tommy was to carry by 
 assault armed with a long stick he had found ; 
 but the game had to be abandoned on account 
 of Sawnders s not unnatural objection to being 
 hit really hard, which Tommy treated with 
 the most withering scorn. 
 
 It isn t funny to hurt people, said the 
 injured defender of the tree, ruefully caressing 
 his wounded member ; and this led to a dis 
 cussion on the nature of true wit, which lasted 
 till their tutor came to call them to tea, and 
 inform them parenthetically that they had 
 made themselves look * even more disgusting 
 objects than usual. 
 
 Then for the first time Tim noticed with 
 some surprise how tired he felt ; indeed for a 
 few moments he was so white that the other 
 
vii TIM 155 
 
 master who accompanied them, observing him, 
 thought he was going to faint. 
 
 Oh, it s nothing, said Tim; I suppose 
 I ve done more than usual to-day. I didn t 
 feel tired till we stopped. 
 
 Sawnders at once discovered that he was 
 quite used up too, but was promptly snubbed 
 by his tutor. 
 
 1 That little Ebbesley does not look at all 
 strong, said the other master, when the two 
 men were for a little out of earshot of their 
 young companions ; are you not anxious 
 about him ? 
 
 He is certainly delicate, Tim s tutor 
 answered thoughtfully ; * but I hope he may 
 outgrow it in time, and on the homeward 
 drive he was very careful of Tim. 
 
 So happy had the boy been in the guile 
 less amusements of the afternoon that for the 
 time he actually forgot to think of Carol. 
 But as they neared Eton on their return the 
 recollection of their encounter of the morning 
 and the possibility that he had offended him 
 
156 TIM CHAP. 
 
 came back with a sudden pang to his mind 
 a pang which was proved to be quite super 
 fluous the very next day. 
 
 It was Sunday morning, an ideal bright 
 summer Sunday, and Carol was standing at 
 his tutor s door in rather a chastened frame of 
 mind. The bells were ringing for service, and 
 from out the houses the boys were issuing, 
 each in his best clothes and with a generally 
 brushed - up appearance. The sun shone 
 upon the house opposite, and made little silver 
 shields of the leaves of the magnolia that was 
 trained against it. Carol was thinking re 
 gretfully how few more Sundays he should 
 sit in the dear familiar chapel, a boy among 
 boys ; and looking back across the happy 
 years of his school- life, hardly a cloud had 
 dimmed their brightness ; in retrospect they 
 seemed one unbroken march of friendliness, 
 gaiety, pleasure, and modest triumph. Eton 
 had treated him very kindly, and he was sorry 
 to leave. Just then who should come out 
 but little Tim. He had recovered to some 
 
vii TIM 157 
 
 extent from his fatigue of the day before, and 
 had refused to stay out, though his tutor had 
 suggested the legitimacy of such a course if 
 he were so inclined. 
 
 As it chanced, the two were alone. Carol 
 laid a kind hand upon him and called him 
 Tim. The old nickname brought a 
 quick flush of pleasure into the colourless 
 face ; at Eton Carol always called him 
 Ebbesley. 
 
 It s a great pity, Tim, the big boy was 
 saying, that we ve seen so little of one 
 another ; that s the worst of this place, every 
 thing goes in layers. If a fellow isn t in your 
 division, with the best will in the world you 
 can never see anything of him. 
 
 You ve always been very good to me, 
 Darley, Tim answered gratefully. 
 
 You won t have to call me (( Darley " any 
 more now I m leaving. I say, Tim, will you 
 write to me sometimes next half and tell me 
 all about the old place ? All my friends of 
 my own standing are leaving too ; and after 
 
158 TIM CHAP. 
 
 all, you know, you are really the oldest friend 
 of them all. 
 
 Oh, Carol, may I ? cried Tim ; but just 
 then an eruption of other boys occurring from 
 the narrow doorway, he departed to chapel 
 without expressing himself further. He 
 trod upon air ; Carol had called him by his 
 old name, and bade him do the like by him, 
 had spoken of their long friendship, had asked 
 him to write to him. And he had been 
 thinking he had offended him ! Tim offered 
 up genuine thanksgivings in the old chapel, 
 where so many generations of boys have 
 knelt on the threshold of life, as he and Carol 
 were kneeling then. 
 
 It happened that morning that the first 
 lesson was the beautiful lament of David over 
 his dead friend Jonathan ; and Tim, listening 
 to the history of those two friends long ago, 
 felt his love for his friend almost a religion to 
 him. Thy love to me was wonderful, said 
 the voice of the reader, passing the love of 
 woman. What woman could ever love him 
 
vii TIM 159 
 
 as I do ? thought Tim, as he looked naturally 
 to the seat where Carol sat. At that moment 
 a sunbeam from some hole high in the roof 
 fell on the golden curly head which seemed 
 transfigured ; and as Tim s hungry eyes rested 
 on the face of his friend, he turned towards 
 him and smiled upon him in his place. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Maud is not seventeen, 
 But she is tall and stately. 
 
 TENNYSON S Maud. 
 
 CAROL and Tim travelled home together at 
 the end of the half, speeding through the 
 golden summer. It was early August, and 
 everywhere the full-eared grain swayed ripe 
 for the sickle. Here and there the harvest 
 had already begun to be gathered in, and 
 the fields were dotted with the reapers, cut 
 ting and binding into sheaves. Larks full- 
 throated hung poised in the quivering air, 
 the woods were in their richest summer 
 green ; poppies in field and hedgerow, 
 geraniums on lawn and terrace, blazed each 
 its own scarlet. Shadows were small and 
 
CHAP, vin TIM 161 
 
 black, and lights broad and warm. And 
 above all stretched the sky, cloudless to the 
 horizon, and blue as Carol s eyes. 
 
 To be nearly nineteen, to have left school 
 behind one, to be six feet high, to have fine 
 broad shoulders, and a brown, honest, hand 
 some face, good teeth, good spirits, and a 
 good digestion surely if any one may fairly 
 be called happy in this world, it would be the 
 favoured possessor of all these good things. 
 And yet Carol, who was all this, and more 
 too, was pensive as he sat with his news 
 paper on his knees and stared out of window. 
 Leaving school is one of the first regrets of 
 a purely sentimental nature, that boys meet 
 with in life, and it lends a tinge of romance 
 to existence. To have come to the end of 
 anything, pleasant or otherwise, is always 
 rather a solemn thing. To fold and lay 
 aside a period of our life, saying, Whatever 
 comes or goes, that is done with and cannot 
 return, must have a sobering effect, with 
 however high a courage we turn to meet the 
 
 M 
 
1 62 TIM CHAP. 
 
 untried. People with whom most things go 
 pretty smoothly are apt to think that the 
 happy time just past is the happiest of their 
 lives, and indeed I doubt if at any later date 
 a healthy popular boy is likely to taste such 
 pure joys as during the last few years of his 
 public-school life. It was the first time that 
 Carol had ever been in any but the highest 
 spirits at going home to Darley. Tim, you 
 may be sure, respected his companion s mood, 
 and made but few attempts at conversation ; 
 the feeling of class distinction between upper 
 division and Remove was still strong upon 
 him, and kept him rather constrained. He 
 would have been hardly less at ease with the 
 Emperor of Russia, had he encountered that 
 autocrat in a first-class carriage, than with 
 this other boy scarcely older than himself in 
 the eyes of their elders, for whom the dis 
 tances between the various stages of boyhood 
 get foreshortened and lost, like the distances 
 between the stars ; both are so very far away. 
 But Carol, now he had burst the trammels of 
 
vin TIM 163 
 
 Eton conventionalism, meant to see more of 
 Tim, for whom he had always entertained a 
 friendly feeling, and as a first step towards 
 this footing of greater intimacy, invited him 
 to come up and see him next day, when they 
 would go for a walk together. So the next 
 afternoon, when the shadows were begin 
 ning almost imperceptibly to lengthen, Tim 
 skipped off, heart elate, for the Court. His 
 way lay through pleasant shady woods, and 
 past the memorable coppice where the acci 
 dent had occurred, nearly six years before, 
 which had first brought him acquainted 
 with Carol. Much of the old childish Tim 
 lingered in his nature, round the alien growth 
 of the last two years, and he was seized with 
 a sudden longing to revisit the scene of their 
 first meeting. He parted the rods carefully, 
 and stepped into the thicket, finding as nearly 
 as possible the exact spot where he had sat. 
 Let us leave him kneeling there, and go 
 before him to the Court, nor seek to pry into 
 that cool shade of hazel boughs. 
 
1 64 TIM CHAP. 
 
 In front of the door at Darley Court not 
 the state entrance with the tall flight of steps 
 and the Doric portico, but the little side-door 
 more generally used is a stone porch over 
 grown with clematis and honeysuckle, and 
 containing two benches. On the afternoon 
 in question it was pleasantly screened by its 
 festoons of creepers from the western sun, 
 which blazed hotly on the gravel before it, 
 where two fox-terriers were lying on their 
 sides enjoying the roasting that is distasteful 
 to the lords of the creation. The stillness 
 and hush of a hot day had fallen on the big 
 house, in which nothing seemed alive. The 
 blinds were pulled down, and an artificial 
 twilight reigned in the darkened rooms. 
 Even the gray parrot was too lazy to talk. 
 On one of the benches in the porch, in keep 
 ing with the drowsiness around him, Carol 
 was stretched in an attitude of loose-limbed 
 repose, awaiting his small friend. He made 
 no effort to read the book in his hand, but 
 was watching with a listless eye the ap- 
 
vin TIM 165 
 
 parently purposeless gyrations of a pair of 
 white butterflies that were flitting round the 
 honeysuckle blossoms, the only bit of active 
 life in all the still picture. They darted and 
 whirled and turned over and over one 
 another in endless play, only broken now and 
 then by a moment s rest with folded wings on 
 some leaf or tendril. One of the dogs got 
 up and passed round the corner of the house 
 with that slow waddle which dogs adopt 
 between sleeping and sleeping, as though 
 they were afraid of waking themselves too 
 thoroughly in the short interval. By and by 
 the other followed, finding the sun-baked 
 gravel too hot even for him, and Carol was 
 left alone. He was conscious of a delightful 
 sensation of relaxation, such as he remem 
 bered to have experienced in a hot bath after 
 a day s hunting ; he had abstracted a big 
 cushion from the library sofa as he came out, 
 and rammed it into the small of his back. 
 What wonder that as he watched the sports 
 of the two butterflies he felt his eyes grow 
 
1 66 TIM CHAP. 
 
 heavy, and the narcotic influence of his sur 
 roundings beginning to tell upon him, he 
 gradually fell asleep. 
 
 For a while the profoundest silence rested 
 on the scene silence broken at last by the 
 voices of women coming up the carriage- 
 drive. 
 
 I do hope they ll be at home, mamma ; 
 I must rest after this dreadful walk. 
 
 The speaker was a tall slim girl of about 
 sixteen, dressed in cool white linen. 
 
 My dear child, says mamma, a no longer 
 blooming, but still pretty woman, who was 
 swaying a pearl -coloured parasol over her 
 broad gray hat and draperies of lavender 
 muslin, I have no doubt they will let us sit 
 down for a little, even if Mrs. Barley is not 
 at home. 
 
 But suppose she is at home and says she 
 isn t. Old ladies always go to sleep on hot 
 afternoons, or take off their caps, or some 
 thing. Then if we ask to go in, what will the 
 poor butler do ? That would be a terrible 
 
viii TIM 167 
 
 situation. Do you remember when they 
 said (i Not at home " at the Chillworthys , and 
 papa insisted on seeing the cedars on the 
 lawn, and there were the whole party having 
 tea ? I never shall forget it. I thought my 
 ears would take a week to get white again ; 
 and the footman had to say he "found his 
 mistress had come back." She had on thin 
 morocco shoes and a white dressing-gown, 
 which is not the dress one usually puts on 
 for walking. 
 
 Dearest Violet, it was most awkward ; 
 don t refer to it. Perhaps, as you say, we 
 had better not say anything about resting. 
 I noticed a seat as we came up the drive ; 
 we can sit down there/ 
 
 ( And have no tea, and be too late for it at 
 home ! Oh, mamma, why do we make calls 
 when the pony s lame? It is almost in 
 decent to go hot and dishevelled into 
 people s drawing-rooms, and with dust on 
 one s boots. 
 
 Violet is going to be a pretty girl ; indeed, 
 
1 68 TIM CHAP. 
 
 as she is well aware, she has already con 
 siderable personal attractions : soft brown 
 hair, with red lights, a little rippled on her 
 temples; brown eyes full of merriment, shaded 
 by long dark chestnut lashes, and arched by 
 finely pencilled brows; a very fair skin, flushed 
 now with her hot walk, and slightly freckled 
 about the small straight nose ; and, rarest of 
 all beauties in a Northern face, a neat pretty 
 mouth and chin. In her white dress and 
 green ribbons, she is very pleasantly notice 
 able, as she steps firmly along beside 
 her languid mother. It is characteristic 
 that it is she who complains of the heat, 
 though her step is elastic and figure erect, 
 while her mother, every curve of whose 
 rounded form expresses the last stage of 
 graceful lassitude, endeavours to show the 
 bright side of the picture. 
 
 It will be much cooler going home, dear ; 
 the sun seems to have less power already ; to 
 be sure, we are in shade just here, which may 
 have something to do with it. 
 
vni TIM 169 
 
 1 Oh ! mamma dear, of course it has every 
 thing to do with it ; why, it is barely five, 
 and at this time of year the sun doesn t set 
 till long after seven, and the lower it gets the 
 more it blazes. 
 
 Thus talking they arrived at the porch, 
 which on all but state occasions served as 
 front door at Darley, and Violet, who was a 
 little ahead, stopped short on the threshold, 
 and looked back at her mother with a gleam 
 of fun in her arch eyes. 
 
 Why don t you ring the bell, dear ? 
 asked that lady. 
 
 Come and see, replied her daughter. 
 The reason is soon apparent. Just below 
 the bell the broad back of a youth was resting 
 against the wall ; his arms were crossed and 
 his chin sunk forward on his breast. 
 
 Well. Some one is at home anyway, 
 whispered the girl, and it is not only old 
 ladies who go to sleep on hot afternoons, it 
 seems : this must be " Carol." (By a fine 
 inflection of voice she expressed, maidenly, 
 
1 70 TIM CHAP. 
 
 that the familiar appellation was meant to be 
 in quotation marks, and was not used by her 
 on her own account.) What fun ! 
 
 Hush, oh ! hush, dear ; if he should wake 
 and hear you ! 
 
 Well ? it seems the shortest way out of 
 the difficulty/ retorted Violet. 
 
 How very awkward, said the poor lady, 
 resorting to a favourite phrase of hers. 
 Had we not perhaps better go away, dear ? 
 
 But against this Violet protested ; she had 
 not walked all this way, to go again without 
 so much as leaving a card ; besides (though 
 she only thought this), she had some curiosity 
 to see what the sleeper would look like 
 when awake. I shall ring, she said. 
 
 On no account. Violet ! I desire, I insist ; 
 so awkward ! cried her mother in an impera 
 tive whisper, clutching the hand which the 
 girl was already raising. Perhaps I will. 
 Oh dear! anyway better than you/ and she 
 tremblingly extended her own hand across 
 the head of the unconscious Carol. But at 
 
vni TIM 171 
 
 this moment one of the terriers, roused by 
 the sound of strange voices, looked round the 
 corner and barked, and Carol s eyes opened 
 with a start, to find a strange lady with out 
 stretched palm, apparently in the act of 
 blessing him. It would be hard to say 
 whether she or Carol blushed the more when, 
 more fully roused to the situation, he had 
 risen and stood before her. 
 
 So awkward/ she began, from force of 
 habit ; and then feeling that this was not at 
 all what might be expected of her, she con 
 tinued, Mr. Carol Darley, I suppose 
 heard of you from Mrs. Darley going to 
 try and find her at home only lately come 
 to live in the neighbourhood must introduce 
 myself Mrs. Markham Willis ; my daughter, 
 Miss Markham Willis ; and Mr. Carol made 
 a fine bow to the young lady, of whose 
 presence he now first became aware. 
 
 Mrs. Darley was produced presently from 
 some mysterious seclusion, where she had 
 probably been occupied much as Miss Violet 
 
172 TIM CHAP. 
 
 had irreverently supposed. Carol s grand 
 mother was a little pink-and-white old lady, 
 with prim sausage curls of the softest flossy 
 white hair on her forehead. She wore beau 
 tiful caps, trimmed with wonderful brocaded 
 ribbon, and a great quantity of minute old- 
 fashioned lockets and brooches. 
 
 I see you have made acquaintance with 
 our boy, she said. Carol dear, tell your 
 Aunt Kate that Mrs. Wallis is here. 
 
 She had never got her husband s name 
 right till they had been married a year, 
 and so, as the Squire used to say when he 
 teased her, could not be expected to re 
 member other people s, but she brought out 
 the mangled words with such a winning 
 graciousness and such an entire belief in 
 herself, that no one thought of being offended, 
 or even surprised. She had called Mr. 
 Ebbesley Eversley, Etherington, and 
 Ebbrington within the first half- hour of 
 their acquaintance, and Tim was either Jim 
 or Tom, as it happened. 
 
vin TIM 173 
 
 How kind of you to come and see me 
 such a hot afternoon, she went on. You 
 must be tired to death. You must have some 
 tea. Kate, dear, as Carol reappeared with 
 his aunt, never mind saying how-d ye-do. 
 Mrs. Williams will excuse you, I know, while 
 you tell them to get her some tea as soon as 
 possible ; it will be better than ceremony this 
 hot weather ; and, Kate, some of the little 
 ginger-bread cakes. You are not too old to 
 like cake, dear, laying a kind old hand on 
 Violet. * As for Carol, he can t have enough 
 of them ; that boy will eat me out of house 
 and home. 
 
 Yes; you must eat our ginger-bread, 
 said Carol, laughing. Grandmamma has a 
 wonderful recipe that has come down through 
 generations of grandmammas, till it has 
 caught quite a smell of hot ginger-bread. 
 
 The tea was not long in making its 
 appearance ; it was good at the Court, like 
 everything else, and was drunk out of little 
 old Worcester cups, which the present 
 
1 74 TIM CHAP. 
 
 occupant keeps in a tall cabinet, but which 
 were then used every day. 
 
 Mrs. Markham Willis, who was one of 
 the earliest victims of the now raging china 
 mania, was in ecstasies over the cups, and 
 wanted to know their date and history and 
 all about them ; indeed, if her daughter had 
 not stopped her, she would have turned hers 
 upside down to look at the mark, regardless 
 of consequences ; as it was, she held it high 
 and tried to peep underneath it. 
 
 My father-in-law gave them to us ; they 
 were his mother s, said Mrs. Darley ; the 
 year after our marriage it was, 1817. I 
 remember because of Princess Charlotte s 
 death, and we all had to wear mourning ; but 
 you are too young to remember, my dear 
 (she called every one * my dear ). And as 
 Mrs. Markham Willis had been born some 
 ten years after that sad event, there was 
 no gainsaying the truth of the old lady s 
 statement. 
 
 Carol meanwhile was making himself 
 
vin TIM 175 
 
 agreeable to Violet, and by the time Tim 
 arrived for the promised walk, they were 
 getting on very comfortably together, con 
 sidering their uncomfortable ages and still 
 more uncomfortable manner of introduction. 
 So much so, indeed, that Violet was not 
 altogether pleased with the interruption. 
 And any girl might be excused for liking to 
 talk to Carol ; he was so big and handsome, 
 so easy and yet so unassuming in manner, 
 that she wished her father could afford to 
 send her brothers to Eton, if this was a 
 specimen of the productions of that school. 
 
 They were not a large party, and three 
 out of the five were already known to Tim, 
 but the impression conveyed to him when 
 the door was opened for his entrance, was 
 that of a large company of strangers engaged 
 in animated conversation. Tim s experience 
 of female society was derived principally 
 from that of Mrs. Quitchett, and he was not 
 at home with ladies ; he had an uncomfortable 
 feeling that women would despise him for 
 
1 76 TIM CHAP. 
 
 being small for his age and weak, having 
 gathered from his varied reading the idea 
 that they liked in the opposite sex such 
 qualities as were most of a contrast to them 
 selves. Like most people who have seen 
 very few of their fellow-creatures, he was 
 absurdly self-conscious, and the eight femi 
 nine eyes turned upon him as he entered 
 the drawing-room exercised a most bewilder 
 ing effect on him. Carol came to his rescue 
 with quick kindliness, taking him by the hand 
 and introducing him to the two strangers. 
 
 It is so pleasant to see so many young 
 people about one, said Mrs. Markham Willis 
 graciously, which threw poor Tim into yet 
 fresh agitation, as he was painfully aware 
 that he was not at all what was expected in 
 a young person, and feared that if Mrs. 
 Markham Willis really did like young people 
 about her, and thought that she had found 
 one in him, she would be disappointed. It 
 is such a common form of egoism in children, 
 and one not perhaps altogether unknown to 
 
vin TIM 177 
 
 older people, thus to exaggerate the import 
 ance of their relation to others, who have 
 most likely never thought at all about them. 
 
 Is Mr. Heatherly at home now? 1 asked 
 Mrs. Darley sweetly. 
 
 " Ebbesley," mamma, said Miss Kate. 
 
 Well, dear, I said so, returned her 
 mother, quite unruffled, adding sweetly to 
 Tim, We see so little of him here. 
 
 He is expected to-morrow, answered the 
 boy, who was occupied in balancing his cup, 
 which would slide ominously about the flat 
 saucer, and trying not to crumb his ginger 
 bread on the carpet. He wrote to me that 
 he couldn t get back before ; he is a good 
 deal away ; I am to meet him at Granthurst. 
 The cup made a sudden excursion to the 
 very edge of the saucer, and Tim just saved 
 it, turning hot and cold at once at the thought 
 of what might have happened. After this, 
 he refused any more with what was almost a 
 shudder, and Mrs. Markham Willis, who had 
 been pensively regarding the company with 
 
 N 
 
i ?8 TIM CHAP. 
 
 her head on one side, remarked, I am afraid 
 we really must go/ as if it were the outcome 
 of a long conversation, in which all the others 
 had been pressing her to stay. In the 
 confusion of hunting for the pearl-coloured 
 parasol, which she had herself put behind her 
 on sitting down, Carol whispered to Tim, 
 You won t mind our walk being a little cut 
 down, old fellow. I must see these people 
 home, but you will come with us, and we can 
 have a little turn after we ve left them. 
 What could Tim say but, Oh yes, just as 
 you like ? And so Carol offered his services 
 as an escort, and the four set out together. 
 
 I don t think Mrs. Wilkes a very inter 
 esting woman, dear, said Mrs. Darley to her 
 daughter when the visitors were gone. She 
 doesn t seem to me to care much for anything 
 but cups and saucers ; she asked me why I 
 didn t put these on the cabinet instead of 
 those pretty vases your father bought last 
 time we were in London ; and it is so tire 
 some of people to have two names. Now I 
 
vni TIM 179 
 
 can generally remember one, but two is too 
 much. 
 
 Miss Kate smiled, and turned the conver 
 sation to Violet s beauty ; on which subject 
 Master Carol also descanted a little later, 
 when, having deposited the young lady and 
 her mamma at their own door, the two lads 
 were going slowly across the fields to the old 
 manor-house. The sun slanting slowly west 
 wards made their shadows long upon the 
 grass as they walked. Bess and Carol s 
 terriers trotted on before them, the former 
 slowly lurching in a slightly sidelong manner, 
 but with infinite dignity as became her years, 
 the two smaller dogs jumping hither and 
 thither, and poking their inquisitive noses 
 into every hole in the hedge. 
 
 1 Don t you think, Carol was saying, that 
 that Miss Markham Willis is a very pretty 
 girl? 
 
 Well, really, answered Tim, I daresay 
 she is. Do you know, I don t think I thought 
 much about it ; I noticed she had a very nice 
 
i8o TIM CHAP. 
 
 white dress, but I didn t see much of her 
 face ; it was rather dark in the drawing- 
 room, and going home you and she were 
 walking on ahead, so that I only saw her 
 back. 
 
 * Here, Nip; here, Scamp, you little beasts! 
 come out of that ! called Carol, and added 
 pensively, Yes, she is pretty ; at least I think 
 she will be, with the calm superiority of a 
 man of the world. 
 
 Why, how old do you suppose she is, 
 then ? 
 
 * She s sixteen, she told me quite a child ; 
 though when she comes out next year she 
 will treat me as a mere boy, and think herself 
 far above me. Did you see the score Potts 
 made for Kent the other day ? Odd he 
 should have made duck at Lords. 
 
 So the conversation drifted off to cricket, 
 in which, as in how many other things, Tim 
 took a profound interest as long as Carol 
 talked of them. 
 
 After a time the talk fell on school matters. 
 
viii TIM 181 
 
 Carol, like most boys who have lately left, 
 was full of anecdotes of what had happened 
 up to this master and that ; how Smith major 
 once showed up the same pcena, a hundred 
 lines of Virgil, three times to a short-sighted 
 and long-suffering instructor, once for an 
 j^Eneid, once for " write out and translate the 
 lesson," and once for a book of Paradise Lost ; 
 with many other such edifying details, to all 
 of which winged words his steadfast admirer 
 lent a greedy ear. From such stories as 
 these, they passed to more personal reminis 
 cences, and Tim was forced to confess that 
 his early life at Eton had not been altogether 
 a bed of roses. 
 
 I was rather a brute not to see more of 
 you there, said Carol, but then boys are 
 brutes. 
 
 Oh, high new standpoint from which to 
 look back and speak of boys ! 
 
 1 Indeed, indeed, I did not think so, 
 Darley Carol, I mean ; you were as good as 
 possible to me ; you could not do more ; you 
 
1 82 TIM CHAP. 
 
 had all your friends before I came, and you 
 were so much higher up, and 
 
 You re a good little soul, Tim, Carol 
 interrupted, and believe in every one ; you d 
 make excuses for a man who robbed and 
 murdered you. 
 
 But you never robbed and murdered 
 me, the little boy answered, venturing to be 
 facetious for the first time. I am sure you 
 did all you could, and took me for your fag 
 and everything. I m glad I shall be in Fifth 
 Form next half, for I should never get used 
 to fagging for any one else. 
 
 Oh, I don t know about that, said the 
 other deprecatingly, but anyway now we 
 are Carol and Tim again, and no longer 
 upper division and lower boy ; I hope we 
 may be friends. You will have to write me 
 full accounts of the old place ; most of my 
 friends have left, so if you don t I shall never 
 hear anything. Mind you tell me what new 
 boys there are at my tutor s next half, and if 
 any of em can play football, and what new 
 
viii TIM 183 
 
 choices Harcourt gives their colours to, and 
 who are likely to give us trouble for the cup. 
 
 How funnily it all came about, Carol, 
 said Tim modestly, after promising faithfully 
 to comply with all these injunctions, my 
 having you for a friend, I mean. One Would 
 have thought I was the last person you 
 would ever have noticed. I can t play foot 
 ball, or anything you like ; indeed, I m no 
 good at any games. 
 
 You give me a good character, answered 
 his friend, laughing, to suppose me the brutal 
 athlete who selects his friends by their muscle; 
 you don t give me much credit, it seems, 
 for intellectual tastes. Seriously though/ he 
 added, looking down at him kindly, you are 
 a first-rate little friend, and will be my link 
 with the dear old place. 
 
 Tim was silent, feeling very grateful and 
 happy. 
 
 I hope nothing will ever break our 
 friendship, he said presently. 
 
 Oh ! nothing ever will, replied the other 
 
1 84 TIM CHAP. 
 
 airily ; at least it will be your fault if it 
 does. 
 
 Would it be his fault ? Tim smiled at the 
 idea. Would he ever be the one to cast aside 
 what he most valued in all the world ? He 
 dwelt upon the thought with some amuse 
 ment ; it seemed too absurd even for protest. 
 Could any one have foretold to us last year 
 eight out of ten of the things that have be 
 fallen us in this, how we should have laughed 
 at them ! Still, though Tim laughed, one 
 thought seemed to oppress him even in his 
 mirth ; it was an odd feeling too indefinite to 
 be called an apprehension, and it had its root 
 and origin in Violet. She was the first young 
 girl he had ever seen placed in juxtaposition 
 to Carol, and the sight of the two together, 
 and his friend s chance remarks upon her 
 beauty, had opened up quite a new vista of 
 possibilities to him. We may laugh at the 
 notion of any one forecasting results from the 
 meeting of a lad of eighteen and a girl of 
 Violet s age, but we must remember the 
 
vin TIM 185 
 
 augur himself was but fourteen, and that to 
 him these other two seemed almost more than 
 grown up. He had come to look on Carol as 
 crowned with all fulfilment, a being to whom 
 no future years could add any power or 
 maturity, and Violet was tall and self-possessed 
 enough for twenty ; her position as the eldest of 
 a large family had made her old for her age. 
 All the complications of love and romance, 
 never hitherto included in any of Tim s views 
 of the future, started into threatening being 
 for the first time, the more alarming for their 
 vagueness ; they seemed to cast quite a new 
 light upon his favourite text, as he repeated 
 it to himself on his knees after his prayers 
 that night, as his habit was. Passing the 
 love of woman. The love of woman ; he had 
 never thought of it that way before. He had 
 supposed it meant mother s love, sister s love, 
 all the good things he had never known, poor 
 child ; and could only imagine the love of 
 women generally as being gentler and more 
 loving than men. Would Carol ever be what 
 
1 86 TIM 
 
 CHAP. VIII 
 
 the books called in love ? ever marry ? 
 and in this remote and awful contingency 
 could they stay close friends, or had he been 
 assured that day for the first time in words of 
 the friendship he most coveted, only to see it 
 melt from his grasp as he claimed it ? In vain 
 he asked these questions of his own heart. 
 Of course, he told himself, some day it was 
 sure to happen ; he was a fool not to have 
 thought of it before. But what were the 
 words? l Passing, yes, passing the love of 
 woman/ that part at least he could always 
 keep true. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A little sorrow, a little pleasure, 
 
 Fate metes us from the dusty measure 
 
 That holds the date of all of us : 
 We are born with travail and strong crying, 
 And from the birthday to the dying 
 
 The likeness of our life is thus. 
 
 SWINBURNE S Ilicet. 
 
 You might come up to-morrow afternoon, 
 if you cared, Carol had said as they parted, 
 and then we could go round by the old mill, 
 as I meant to do to-day, and you would see 
 the new cart-road grandfather is making in 
 the wood. 
 
 And who so ready as Tim ! Only, he 
 doubted if his father would get back in time 
 for him to get to the Court after he had been 
 to Granthurst to fetch him. Would Carol 
 
1 88 TIM CHAP. 
 
 leave it open? And Carol had said, All 
 right, old fellow ; I shan t expect you till I see 
 you ; on which understanding they had parted, 
 Tim standing to watch the tall active figure 
 striding away from the open door of the 
 manor-house, calling his dogs after him. 
 
 He s a fine growed lad, that young Barley, 
 remarked Mrs. Quitchett, who had come out 
 to welcome her nursling ; do you remember 
 the day, Master Tim dear, when he came 
 with the grapes, the first time ever he come 
 here ? 
 
 Remember? Oh, nurse, cried Tim (he 
 always called the old lady nurse ), he s the 
 noblest, finest fellow going, and I love him 
 better than anybody in the world except you, 
 dear, he added quickly, putting his arms about 
 her as he saw a quick look of pain cross her 
 face ; and then, what was it ? a prick of 
 conscience perhaps that made him add lower 
 and more thoughtfully, with just a shade of 
 doubt in his tone, and father. 
 
 Was it true that he loved his father better 
 
ix TIM 189 
 
 than Carol ? The question had never before 
 suggested itself to him in that crude form. 
 What was the criterion of loving ? He did 
 not know ; he had no signs to go by. He had 
 assumed, as children do, that of course he 
 loved his father ; good people always love 
 their parents. It was only that vague inde 
 finite class of the wicked, which he heard 
 denounced on Sunday, and to which it never 
 occurs to a child that he or any of his 
 immediate surroundings can possibly belong, 
 who did not love their parents. But now he 
 felt in his inmost being that his affection for his 
 father was not as strong as that for his friend, 
 was not, indeed, of the same sort at all, and 
 he took shame to himself for the discovery. 
 Many of us live thus for years, allowing our 
 hearts to act for us, and never asking ourselves 
 needless psychological questions ; and then 
 suddenly comes a time when we seem to start 
 up uncomfortably active and alert, new pos 
 sibilities open out around us, and question 
 ings of our feelings suggest themselves which 
 
190 TIM CHAP. 
 
 plead, importunate, for answers. Nor can 
 we make a greater mistake than in sup 
 posing that such turns in their lives come 
 only to men and women. To a boy of 
 Tim s organisation, fourteen is an age quite 
 ripe for crises. 
 
 Violet crosses his path, erect, slim, and 
 hazel-eyed, and in a moment he seems to 
 understand all possible complications of love 
 and courtship between her and Carol. He 
 makes a chance little gush to his old nurse, 
 and lo ! conscience awaking, proceeds to 
 inquire with uncomfortable pertinacity into 
 his relations with his father. When one con 
 siders how those who have delicate consciences 
 like our hero, suffer and writhe, and run round 
 and round, and drive their stings into their 
 own brains, one is tempted to ask as the best 
 gift for one s dearest, a fine tough insensibility, 
 a happy bluntness of the moral sense. I 
 suppose the moralists would tell us to keep 
 our account with the stern goddess as clean 
 as possible, to put into her hands no weapon 
 
ix TIM 191 
 
 for our torment ; but which of us can truly 
 boast of such a course as that ? And besides, 
 does not experience daily teach us that it is 
 precisely the most blameless among us she 
 selects for her favourite victims ? 
 
 Tim, as he sat over the book he did not 
 read that night, as he drove over to Grant- 
 hurst in the trap next day, could not help 
 asking himself, What have I ever done for 
 father, who has done so much for me ? What 
 have I ever given up for him ? He tried to 
 answer that no boys of his age can do any 
 thing for their parents ; it is a matter of course 
 that they accept what they get. Ah! but/ 
 says conscience, they love their fathers. 
 And though he dared not put it into words 
 even to himself, the thought was ever present, 
 though formless as yet within him, that he did 
 not love his father. 
 
 Poor Mr. Ebbesley ! no one did love him 
 that I know of; no one ever had. He was 
 not made to attract love, and yet if his heart 
 was not breaking for it (not being of a 
 
192 TIM CHAP. 
 
 breaking sort), it had hardened and withered 
 and dried up for want of it. 
 
 To have longed for love all one s life, to 
 have sought it with care and constantly 
 missed it, is as sad a fate as can well be 
 imposed on a man, and is not calculated to 
 sweeten the temper. 
 
 Looking back over William Ebbesley s life, 
 the wonder is that he had not turned out a 
 social pariah and enemy of his race. There 
 must have been an immense moral rectitude 
 about him that kept him true to what he be 
 lieved to be his duty to his neighbour. 
 
 Early left an orphan by poor and improvi 
 dent parents, he had been educated by the 
 grudging charity of people with a family to 
 provide for, and sent abroad at an age when 
 many boys have not left school, to push his 
 own fortunes. Uncheered, uncared-for, he 
 had fought his way through twenty hard 
 years, if not to riches, to what thirty years 
 ago was considered a very decent competence, 
 and had returned to England to fall a prey to 
 
ix TIM 193 
 
 one of those absorbing passions for a beautiful 
 and penniless girl many years younger than 
 himself, which are so often the fate of men 
 verging on middle age, in whose earlier youth 
 there has been no room for romance. On 
 her he had lavished all the wealth of love 
 that had for years accumulated in his lonely 
 heart. I would dwell as lightly as possible 
 on the painful and bitter episode of his 
 short married life ; of the way it ended I 
 have already given a hint in an earlier 
 chapter of this story. Just where he had 
 placed all his hopes of happiness, the bitter 
 est shame and sorrow of his life had lain in 
 wait for him. 
 
 Many men would have been utterly 
 crushed by such an end of all that they 
 had longed and worked for, and laid down 
 their arms in the unequal struggle with fate. 
 But Ebbesley, half ruined by the extravagance 
 of the woman he had loved, wounded to the 
 heart by her cruelty, and humiliated in every 
 fibre of his proud nature by her unfaithfulness, 
 
 o 
 
194 TIM CHAP. 
 
 had yet one link that bound him to the world, 
 one thing left to work for. It was such a 
 fragile thread, the poor little year-old baby, 
 by which to hang on to affection and grace 
 and the beauty of life, but it was his all, and 
 he grasped it despairingly. For the baby s 
 sake he had gone uncomplainingly back to 
 years more of the banishment he had thought 
 
 J o 
 
 ended, and the labour he believed accom 
 plished, even separating himself from the 
 child for the child s good. We have seen 
 how he dwelt in secret on what his son was 
 to look like, and be like ; how often in his 
 own mind he had foreseen the manner of 
 their meeting ; and how, when the time was 
 come, he had chafed at every delay, count 
 ing trains and steamboats but crawling 
 snails compared to the wings of love that 
 were bearing him back to his little one. 
 And we have seen too what awaited him 
 at home. If I have wearied my reader with 
 insisting on the barrenness of this man s 
 life, it is because I am full of pity for him, 
 
ix TIM 195 
 
 and would not have him judged too hardly, 
 if in what follows he seems unkind to his 
 son. 
 
 Tim arrived at Granthurst in a chastened 
 frame of mind, and endeavoured to blot him 
 self out of the gaze of the few unemployed 
 people always waiting about a station, who 
 seized on him as lawful prey, and stared as 
 though with a view to his identification on the 
 morrow before a jury of their fellow-citizens. 
 From this scrutiny, which was peculiarly 
 trying and distasteful to him, he was shortly 
 delivered by the arrival of a hot dog, who was 
 brought in resisting violently and tied to a 
 post, and upon whom all the interest of the 
 unoccupied population, for a moment directed 
 at him, fastened itself with avidity, leaving 
 Tim once more to his compunctions. The 
 first outcome of his meditations was an unusual 
 infusion of tenderness and spontaneity in the 
 greeting kiss he bestowed upon his father, 
 when in due course the train brought up beside 
 the platform, and Mr. Ebbesley descended, 
 
196 TIM CHAP. 
 
 bending a cindery whisker towards the fresh 
 young lips. 
 
 As they were mounting into their con 
 veyance, and the aggressive whiteness of the 
 W. E., which from the side of his black bag 
 thrust its owner s personality on a reluctant 
 public, was being eclipsed under the seat, a 
 new anxiety suggested itself to Tim, which 
 his previous train of thought had for the time 
 kept under. Mindful of Carol s invitation, he 
 consulted his watch, and found that his power 
 to avail himself of it would depend upon 
 whether Mr. Ebbesley had any business in 
 Granthurst, or meant to return at once to 
 Stoke Ashton ; timidly, but with a manner of 
 studied unconcern, he asked the question, and 
 to his delight his father answered that he was 
 going straight home. It seemed as though 
 his mind in its rebound, as this weight was 
 lifted off it, scattered the doubts and fears 
 that had oppressed it all the morning, and he 
 felt light of heart, and inclined to chatter as 
 the carriage rolled on its way over breezy 
 
ix TIM 197 
 
 commons, or plunged into deep shady lanes. 
 In the days when Tim was a schoolboy 
 August was still a hot month, and the warm 
 sun called an unusual glow into his cheek at 
 the edge of the shadow cast by his straw hat 
 with its pretty ribbon. 
 
 Eton has certainly improved him, thought 
 Mr. Ebbesley, looking at him half critically ; 
 he has lost his whipped-dog expression, and 
 he smiled approvingly at his son, saying with 
 frosty geniality, You must tell me all about 
 last half; how have you been doing at school? 5 
 
 Oh ! it has been a very jolly half, and I 
 have hardly stayed out at all, although it was 
 so hot. I wrote you that I took i3th in 
 trials. Tommy Weston said it was an un 
 lucky number, but I told him he would not 
 have thought so if he had been there in the 
 list instead of 25th. 
 
 And who is Tommy Weston? asked 
 Mr. Ebbesley, feeling quite friendly towards 
 this other man s son who had done less well 
 than his own. 
 
198 TIM . CHAP. 
 
 Tommy isn t his real name, you know, 
 explained Tim ; he s a fellow at m -tutor s, 
 and the other fellows call him Tommy ; he s 
 been very jolly to me, and, indeed, I get on 
 better with all the fellows than I did at first. 
 And I ve " passed," which means, don t you 
 know, that I can swim, and may go on the 
 river, and I think, rather doubtfully, I m 
 beginning to like cricket a little. 
 
 That s a good thing, said his father 
 judicially ; it is always well in life to like 
 what other people like ; eccentricity always 
 brings unhappiness. 
 
 Tim glowed and expanded with the 
 pleasant sense of having done the right 
 thing ; it was such a new and strange 
 sensation. And I ve grown, he said ex- 
 ultingly ; I m two inches taller than I was 
 in the spring. 
 
 * Capital/ said Mr. Ebbesley, almost with 
 enthusiasm ; and he thought, It is not always 
 the boys who grow young who turn out the 
 finest men in the end. And your tutor? 
 
ix TIM 199 
 
 he asked ; I hope he is satisfied with 
 you. 
 
 Oh ! m -tutor s been awfully good to 
 me ; he always is ; he took me to Burnham 
 Beeches the other day, and we had a 
 delightful afternoon, and he s promised to 
 give me a good report. I was 5th in collec 
 tions, and if I had been 3d I should have got 
 a prize ; so tutor said he would give me a 
 little book anyway, and he wrote "to con 
 sole " in it, because he said it was hard luck 
 on me being just out of it, and I had worked 
 very well all the half. Wasn t it kind of 
 him? 
 
 In his heart Mr. Ebbesley thought it was 
 a foolish indulgence, but he was feeling so 
 amiably towards his son just then that he let 
 it pass without comment. Indeed, he seemed 
 altogether in so gracious a mood as he sat 
 listening with a grave smile to all that he 
 was told, though he did not say much, that 
 Tim was presently encouraged, rambling 
 from one subject to another, to speak of 
 
200 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Carol. He had never felt so near to his 
 father before, so able to talk freely to him of 
 what was in his heart. Ordinarily he did 
 not say much about his friend ; his father 
 never seemed to be pleased at his affection 
 for him. To tell the truth, the poor man 
 had not forgiven Carol the awkwardness of 
 their first meeting, and the innocent part he 
 had borne in the disappointment of all his 
 most cherished expectations. And it was 
 not enough that this boy who was not 
 his, by keeping before his eyes the perfect 
 realisation of all that he had desired in his 
 own son, seemed always to mock him ; but 
 he must needs come between him and that 
 son, such as he was, and steal the affections 
 that were his by every right, and add to the 
 wealth of love lavished on him by his own 
 kinsfolk. Truly, to him that hath shall be 
 given, and from him that hath not shall be 
 taken away even that which he hath. It 
 was by a law as natural as that of gravitation 
 that the ewe-lamb was added to the flocks 
 
ix TIM 201 
 
 and herds of the rich man, and the wonder 
 is that Nathan should have seen anything 
 odd in the arrangement. Still this is a hard 
 saying, and a view of matters that has 
 seemed unjust to generations of men, from 
 the prophet down to William Ebbesley, who 
 certainly needed and would have appreciated 
 a little affection far more than the fortunate 
 Carol. In fact, he was jealous ; and strange 
 as it may seem that a father should be jealous 
 of his son s friends, it is by no means so rare 
 a thing as might be supposed. No parent 
 can help a certain humiliation and annoyance 
 at the thought of a child s undoubted pre 
 ference of another to himself. Many people 
 under these circumstances make the grievous 
 mistake of trying to separate their sons from 
 the objects of their jealousy, but in no case 
 is this treatment successful. Some lads turn 
 sulky under it, and nurse bitter feelings in 
 secret, while others break out into open 
 defiance and rebellion, when all sorts of 
 trouble ensue. Of course the parents do 
 
202 TIM CHAP. 
 
 not admit for a moment that it is jealousy 
 that prompts their course ; there are always 
 admirable reasons why the objectionable 
 person is not a good friend for their off 
 spring. Mr. Ebbesley would probably have 
 repudiated with scorn the idea of his being 
 jealous of Tim s affection for Carol Darley, 
 but it galled and irritated him none the less ; 
 until he had come to entertain such a hearty 
 dislike of his young neighbour as he would 
 have been slow to acknowledge even to 
 himself. He did not consider how little 
 pains he had taken to secure the gift which 
 he grudged to another ; in his own way he 
 loved his son strongly, but not having found 
 him such as he had hoped, he could not give 
 him that approving affection which alone 
 conveys the idea of love to a child s mind. 
 All the same, it did not strike him as any 
 thing less than reasonable to expect that the 
 boy should be intuitively aware of this hidden 
 love of his, and respond to it as warmly as 
 though it were expressed. He knew he had 
 
ix TIM 203 
 
 the feeling, but did not reflect that he never 
 showed it. And though Tim was as far from 
 guessing his father s real sentiments with 
 regard to his friend as he was from divining 
 his love for himself, he felt instinctively, 
 though dimly, that the subject of Carol was 
 not a welcome one to Mr. Ebbesley, and that 
 he would therefore do well, without actually 
 disguising the fact of his intimacy with him, 
 to see him quietly, and talk of him as little as 
 possible. And this was not a difficult course 
 to pursue, as Mr. Ebbesley rarely encouraged 
 much conversation from him on any subject, 
 and still more rarely made any inquiries as to 
 where, how, or with whom he spent his time 
 when they were apart. 
 
 But on this particular afternoon he 
 seemed, as I have said, so kind, and Tim 
 was feeling so warmly towards him, and 
 everything was working so well towards 
 the gratification of his wish to be off to the 
 Court in time for the promised walk, that he 
 said in the lightness of his heart, * I am 
 
204 TIM CHAP. 
 
 glad you had no business in Granthurst, 
 father. 
 
 Why so ? asked his father, wondering in 
 his own mind if he were going to suggest 
 their doing anything together, and deter 
 mined beforehand to accede to any such 
 proposition, even though he had to put off 
 looking over the law-papers he had brought 
 down with him till the next day. 
 
 Well, you see, I was to have gone a 
 walk with Carol Darley yesterday, but there 
 were people calling at the Court, and he had 
 to go back with them, so we couldn t have 
 our walk. And he said we might go this 
 afternoon, but I wasn t sure if I should be 
 back in time ; if you d had to stay in Grant- 
 hurst it would have made it too late. So we 
 left it open. It was to depend on that. 
 That s why I wanted to know if you were 
 coming straight home. I m awfully glad. 
 
 It was one of Mr. Ebbesley s idiosyn 
 crasies that he always paused before answer 
 ing any one just long enough to make his 
 
ix TIM 205 
 
 interlocutor feel awkwardly uncertain whether 
 he .had heard or not ; so that Tim, who was 
 accustomed to his ways, was not for a moment 
 or two surprised at his silence. 
 
 When he did speak it was to say slowly, and 
 in a voice from which all traces either of affec 
 tion or resentment were equally removed 
 
 You say you were at Darley Court yester 
 day ; am I to understand that you wish to go 
 there again to-day ? 
 
 Tim looked up quickly, and was startled 
 at the hard expression on his father s face. 
 
 ( Yes, he stammered; I thought, I 
 meant 
 
 I think you will be in the way, Mr. 
 Ebbesley continued, in the same measured 
 tones. Mr. and Mrs. Darley cannot want 
 you perpetually about the house. 
 
 But most likely I should not see any of 
 them, Tim protested eagerly. I am only 
 going to see Carol ; it was quite by accident 
 that he happened to be in the drawing-room 
 yesterday when I went. 
 
206 TIM CHAI-. 
 
 I should think he too could exist without 
 seeing you every day, said his father sharply, 
 and then relapsing into stateliness, he added, 
 I disapprove of such violent intimacies, 
 especially with people with whom I am not 
 intimate myself. 
 
 It flashed across Tim that if his intimacies 
 were to be regulated by his father s, their 
 number would indeed be limited. But he 
 swallowed this repartee and made one 
 despairing effort. But he asked me to 
 come, and I said I would. I will not go 
 again if you don t like me to 
 
 * I desire, said Mr. Ebbesley, in a way 
 that put an end to all further discussion of 
 the subject, that you will not go to the 
 Court this afternoon. That is enough. 
 
 No word of why he wanted him to stay at 
 the manor-house, of regret that he should 
 wish to leave him on the first afternoon that 
 they were together after so long a separa 
 tion ; he was too proud to show his own child 
 how much he needed his affection. Nothing 
 
ix TIM 207 
 
 could be farther from Tim s imagination than 
 that his father should wish to keep him near 
 himself, or have any desire for his company. 
 Probably one indication of a human motive, 
 even a jealous or selfish one, that had its 
 root in love, would have brought them closer 
 together than anything had ever done yet, 
 but it was foreign to William Ebbesley s 
 nature to make such a sign ; he believed 
 himself to be actuated by entirely impersonal 
 considerations, or at least he wished to be 
 lieve so, and was determined that his son 
 should, whether he did or not. So Tim s 
 flutterings of love and joy born of a summer s 
 morning were chilled back upon his heart, 
 and he sat in silence for the rest of the drive 
 sore and resentful, and escaped as soon as 
 they reached home to cry in his own room 
 alone with Bess. Carol, concluding that he 
 had not got back in time, visited the old mill 
 and the new cart-road by himself, whistling 
 as he went. 
 
 This was Mr. Ebbesley s first act of open 
 
208 TIM CHAP, ix 
 
 hostility to the friendship between the lads, 
 and it was the beginning of much pain and 
 heart-burning to Tim, serving to widen the 
 distance between him and his father con 
 siderably. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 Oh let the solid ground 
 
 Not fail beneath my feet 
 Before my life has found 
 
 What some have found so sweet. 
 
 TENNYSON S Maud. 
 
 TIM S career at Eton, after it became more 
 prosperous, offers nothing of much interest 
 to the general public, his relations with the 
 various good people who befriended him 
 having nothing to do with this story, which 
 is the history of his friendship for Carol, and 
 for no one else. We must not suppose, 
 however, that he had no other friends. He 
 was not of the very successful type, but he 
 made several very fast and true ones at this 
 period of his life. His tutor was very fond 
 of him, and more than one boy among his 
 
 p 
 
210 TIM CHAP. 
 
 schoolfellows asked him to visit him in the 
 holidays, which is the highest mark of esteem 
 that young gentlemen at that age can confer. 
 His father would have liked him to go, but 
 Tim would accept none of these invitations, 
 feeling how unlike the homes his friends de 
 scribed to him abodes of mothers and sisters 
 and ponies, and such good things were to 
 the lonely old manor-house, and not caring 
 to invite their inspection of his own interior 
 in return. Still he felt the kindness of the 
 intention, and was as placidly contented as 
 he could be in a place where Carol had been, 
 and was not ; for in spite of new ties and 
 interests, above and below all other friend 
 ships or affections, his life-devotion held its 
 undiminished sway. He corresponded regu 
 larly with Carol, according to his promise, 
 telling him all the gossip of the old place, so 
 interesting to those who have grown up in 
 that queer nursery, so inscrutably dull to all 
 besides. Many a detail of cricket or fives 
 news was mastered by the indefatigable Tim, 
 
x TIM 211 
 
 though he took but a slender concern in such 
 matters on his own account, because he knew 
 they would be of interest to Carol, who on 
 his side declared our hero the best of corre 
 spondents, and supplied him in return with 
 descriptions of Cambridge, or, if at Darley, 
 with constant bulletins of the health of Bess. 
 
 Bess is renewing her youth, he would 
 write ; there is not a rabbit but goes in fear 
 for his life in all Stoke Ashton parish. Mrs. 
 Ouitchett seems to have borrowed the other 
 old lady s receipt, not for rabbit-hunting, but 
 for looking young. In your absence, she 
 hails me with pleasure, as some one to whom 
 to talk of you. 
 
 Or from Cambridge : ( Do you want to 
 know what I am about ? I walk a great 
 deal to stretch my legs, w r hich you may 
 think do not require it not to see the 
 country, which a fellow here, who never said 
 anything else good that I know of, said one 
 could do by putting on a pair of high-heeled 
 boots. I read a fairish amount, and play 
 
212 TIM CHAP. 
 
 lots of tennis. Do you know what a bisque 
 is ? or that half thirty is not the same as 
 fifteen ? In the evenings I have taken 
 violently to whist, and have once or twice 
 ventured on more exciting games, but don t 
 feel inclined to become a professional gambler 
 yet awhile. Next winter I think I shall keep 
 a horse. It isn t half a bad life, and there 
 are lots of awfully jolly fellows ; but I miss the 
 old school more than I can say, and am still 
 more than half inclined to blub when I think 
 of it. What shall I do next half without 
 Upper Club ? I don t believe playing for the 
 University will at all console me. 
 
 Not very deep perhaps, but frank, boyish, 
 jolly letters, with a sensation as of fresh air 
 blowing through them. I have a pile of 
 them from which I could quote, all much in 
 the same style. Years afterwards they were 
 found, oh ! how carefully preserved, and tied 
 together in little bundles, with now only the 
 date of their receipt, now some tender com 
 ment carefully affixed in Tim s youthful scrawl. 
 
x TIM 213 
 
 The neatness of their arrangement had 
 something specially touching about it, tidi 
 ness not being as a general rule by any 
 means a distinguishing characteristic of their 
 recipient. 
 
 As may readily be imagined, Tim s per 
 sistence in his intimacy with Carol did not 
 tend to increase the comfort of his relations 
 with his father. Mr. Ebbesley was not a 
 man of many words ; but neither was it 
 difficult to see of what he disapproved, and 
 in the present case, without parading his 
 sentiments, he took no pains to conceal them. 
 During the autumn and winter that followed 
 the conversation recorded in the last chapter 
 he confined himself to little sneers and 
 sarcasms when Carol s name happened to 
 be mentioned in his presence, which Tim 
 took care should be as seldom as possible. 
 But the very carefulness of this avoidance 
 was in itself a cause of constraint. How 
 could the boy be at ease with his father 
 when all his most sacred feelings clustered 
 
214 TIM CHAP. 
 
 round an object of which he felt it better 
 never to speak to him ? To live in tacit 
 defiance of an unexpressed desire of one s 
 nearest relative does not conduce to a com 
 fortable state of things. 
 
 It was in the t first Easter holidays after 
 the August day when Fate, in the shape 01 
 Miss Markham Willis, had first crossed the 
 path of the two friends, that, Carol having 
 gone back to Cambridge before Tim s return 
 to Eton, the latter was one day diligently 
 scribbling his budget of home news in the 
 old manor library where he had lain asleep 
 the day his father s letter had come to Mrs. 
 Quitchett. (What the news was I am not 
 in a position to tell you, because, you see, 
 though I can refer to every line Carol wrote 
 to Tim, I have not the same advantage as 
 regards Tim s answers.) So immersed was 
 he in his writing, and in the mental effort of 
 omitting nothing Carol would like to be told, 
 that he did not hear the door open, nor 
 observe that any one had come in, till he 
 
x TIM 215 
 
 was startled by a shadow falling on the 
 paper, and looking up, was somewhat alarmed 
 to find his father standing before him with 
 an expression which was anything rather 
 than amiable. Mr. Ebbesley had been 
 vexed about something, and was in a mood 
 for finding fault. 
 
 Always scribbling, he began ; it s really 
 a sin not to be out this lovely day. 
 
 He was not as a rule keenly susceptible 
 to the beauty of the weather, and his remark 
 therefore rather surprised his son. 
 
 I was out all the morning, he said. 
 
 Where ? asked his father. 
 
 Oh ! up above Beech Farm, in the Court 
 woods, and Tim blushed a little as he spoke. 
 The fact was he had been making one of his 
 pilgrimages to the sacred spot where his 
 dinner with the squirrel had been interrupted 
 so many years before. 
 
 In the Court woods, repeated Mr. 
 Ebbesley crossly; really I m ashamed of 
 you. Not content with dangling eternally 
 
216 TIM CHAP. 
 
 about after that turnip-eating young embryo 
 squire the whole time he s here, you must 
 needs make yourself ridiculous by hanging 
 about his house and grounds like a senti 
 mental girl when he s away. 
 
 You shan t call Carol names, Tim 
 answered hotly, the faint blood in his cheeks 
 suddenly crimsoning them all over ; he s the 
 
 best and There, I beg your pardon ; I 
 
 know I oughtn t to speak so to you, but I 
 couldn t help it. Say what you like about 
 me, but please don t sneer at him. 
 
 I am sure he would be delighted if he 
 knew what a champion he had in you ; don t 
 you see that the fellow doesn t want you ? 
 You must bore him. 
 
 1 You ve no right to say he doesn t want 
 me, the boy flashed out again ; it s not true ; 
 and and I think he s the best judge of 
 whether he wants me or not. 
 
 He was quivering all over, but his father 
 took no more notice of this outbreak than of 
 the former one. 
 
x TIM 217 
 
 I ve no doubt, he went on, motioning 
 slightly towards the unfinished letter, that 
 it s to him you ve been writing all this trash. 
 It seems to me that you waste a good deal 
 of your time and my paper in supplying 
 pipe-lighters for unknown undergraduates. 
 
 What is it you want me to do ? asked 
 Tim hopelessly. 
 
 You know quite well what my wishes 
 are : that I disapprove of violent intimacies 
 and long letter-writing. Why can t you be 
 friends with this very commonplace young 
 man as other people are friends, without 
 all this foolish fuss ? I don t want you to 
 waste all your time in writing sentimental 
 letters ; it is enervating ; and Heaven knows 
 you don t require that 
 
 Tim stood white and uncertain, biting his 
 pen. You want me to give Carol up, he 
 said. 
 
 That is so like you, said Mr. Ebbesley ; 
 you make such a tragedy of everything ; 
 who talks of giving up ? I only ask you for 
 
218 TIM CHAP. 
 
 once to show a little common sense, and not 
 eternally to go on being a baby. Why can 
 you never be like other boys about anything, 
 I wonder ? 
 
 Tim wondered that too ; he also wondered 
 whether it would be worth while to try and 
 make his father understand that his letters 
 were not sentimental, as he called them. 
 For a minute he half felt inclined to ask him 
 to read the one on the table between them, 
 but he recollected all sorts of little simple 
 sayings and phrases that he would not for 
 the world submit to the sarcastic perusal of 
 his father s double eyeglass. He knew per 
 fectly well that to continue on terms of cool 
 acquaintance with Carol, always guarding 
 every word and action for fear it was too 
 intimate, and not writing to him after pro 
 mising to do so, was simply impossible ; but 
 he knew too that it was hopeless to make 
 his father see this as he saw it. No. What 
 he meant him to do was simply to give up 
 his friend, and he felt a dull feeling of anger 
 
x TIM 219 
 
 and defiance at what he considered his dis 
 ingenuous way of putting himself more or 
 less in the right by all this talk about 
 common sense and ordinary friendship. 
 He determined to call things by their right 
 names, and since his father did not like his 
 speaking of what he required of him as 
 giving up Carol, he would do it again. 
 
 I am sorry I cannot obey you, he said 
 slowly ; I think one should never give up a 
 friend unless for his own good. 
 
 Oh ! in that case you think you should ? 
 inquired his father, with an ironical appearance 
 of interest. 
 
 Yes ; if one loved a person truly, one 
 would do anything for him ; even give him 
 up, answered Tim quite simply. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley fairly lost patience. Don t 
 you know I could make you do this if I 
 chose ? he said almost fiercely ; perhaps the 
 words if one loved a person truly had galled 
 his wound a little. But he relapsed into his 
 manner of carefully assumed indifference to 
 
220 TIM CHAP. 
 
 add, I prefer, however, to leave you free to 
 find out that I am right by experience ; I 
 have warned you, and you will not be warned ; 
 you know my wishes, but since you refuse to 
 be guided by them you shall please yourself. 
 And he turned and left the room. 
 
 Tim stood with the unfinished letter in 
 his hand staring blankly after him. Why 
 was the only thing his father had ever asked 
 of him the only thing he could not do ? He 
 sank back into his chair and covered his face 
 with the letter. Oh ! Carol/ he moaned, 
 will you cast me off some day after this ? 
 
 It would be hard to say whether father or 
 son suffered more keenly after this interview. 
 Tim, to be sure, had carried his point, but his 
 laurels were dear bought, and some victories, 
 as we know, are almost more disastrous than 
 defeats ; and then Mr. Ebbesley had the 
 pleasant certainty that he was right, which 
 was his consolation in many of the hard 
 knocks of life. He sincerely believed him 
 self actuated by none but the very highest 
 
X TIM 221 
 
 motives, and, moreover, considered that he 
 had displayed remarkable temper and modera 
 tion under very trying circumstances. None 
 the less he had been defied and bested, 
 refused what he had almost stooped to ask, 
 and had flat disobedience and revolt opposed 
 to his expressed wishes. He had impru 
 dently risked a trial of strength with Carol, 
 and been thrown. Not only had he less 
 hold on his son s affections, but actually less 
 power over his actions than this youth who 
 cared, he was convinced, so little for either 
 one or the other. He felt sore and injured, 
 and Tim supremely miserable, for some time ; 
 days during which they met and lived together 
 as usual, and tried with very poor success 
 to behave as though nothing had happened. 
 Tim continued to write to Carol, but he did 
 so henceforth in his room, and carried his 
 letters to the post himself, not from a desire 
 to conceal the fact from his father, but only 
 to avoid a recurrence of the painful scene in 
 the library ; and indeed it had no successors. 
 
222 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley had delivered himself of his 
 views, and thereafter the grave was not more 
 silent ; the subject of Carol was no more 
 mentioned between him and his son. And 
 Tim wrote no word of what had happened 
 to Carol. In the first place, he would have 
 died a thousand deaths sooner than say a 
 word that could distress him, and in the 
 second, he was far too proud to let even his 
 best friend into the secret of his disagreement 
 with his father. His letters flowed on in their 
 usual channel, and if they were a little 
 lacking in spirit, their recipient was by no 
 means an observant critic, and least of all 
 just then, being, as we shall see, much pre 
 occupied with affairs of his own. 
 
 For, if Tim s letters were unchanged, 
 Carol s certainly were not. There crept into 
 them about this time a quite new and strange 
 tone, which did not pass unnoticed by his young 
 correspondent. It would bedifiicult to describe 
 exactly what it was ; but chance remarks scat 
 tered up and down, together with a certain ab- 
 
x TIM 223 
 
 stract and speculative turn of sentence quite 
 foreign to the young man s usual style, would 
 have indicated pretty clearly to any one but a 
 baby what was the matter with the writer. 
 I feel/ he wrote, that I am approaching a 
 turning-point in my life, which will make me 
 either very happy or very miserable ; and I 
 feel too that it is for life. And elsewhere 
 he congratulated Tim on being still of an 
 age when he was not likely to know what it 
 was to care more for one person than for all 
 the rest of the world, at which his friend 
 smiled a little sadly, thinking that he did. 
 There are no notes on these letters in Tim s 
 handwriting, only the date ; probably they 
 puzzled the boy not a little. 
 
 That Carol was not quite himself seemed 
 pretty clear ; then it dawned upon him that 
 his state of mind indicated strong affection 
 for some one, and almost simultaneously he 
 arrived at the chilling conviction that that some 
 one was certainly not himself. He hardly 
 knew how to reply to these strange unfamiliar 
 
224 TIM CHAP. 
 
 letters ; no doubt he thought he was expected 
 to make some sign of sympathy or interest, 
 but with the vague and fragmentary know 
 ledge he possessed, he felt it impossible to 
 do so. In one way he was undoubtedly the 
 gainer by this mystery. At no previous time 
 had Carol ever written, not only so regularly, 
 but so often ; hardly a week passed without 
 his hearing from him, and usually at some 
 length. Still he felt uneasily that something 
 was wrong ; and when at the end of the 
 Cambridge May term his friend wrote that 
 he was coming down to Eton for a day or two, 
 he was glad not only with the joy of meeting 
 again, but almost more so at the opportunity 
 thus afforded to him of judging if his voice, 
 look, or manner were in keeping with the 
 strangeness of his epistolary style. And yet 
 he half feared to see in him the probable con 
 firmation of his suspicions of something being 
 wrong. 
 
 When Carol did come, his behaviour was 
 even stranger than his writing. Instead of 
 
x TIM 225 
 
 launching himself out on to the pavement 
 over the closed door of his fly the moment 
 it drew up in front of tutor s, and sending a 
 flying glance up the house-front for any friends 
 who might be on the look-out, as was his 
 usual custom, followed by a tremendous shout 
 if his eye caught a familiar face, Tim, who 
 was watching from his window, was amazed 
 to see him sit meekly while the driver 
 descended from his box and opened the door, 
 and then inquire what he owed him, as though 
 he had just taken the drive from Slough 
 Station to Eton for the first time in his life. 
 And having paid the man, who had driven 
 him any time these seven years, and was too 
 much astonished even to overcharge him, he 
 walked into the house without once looking 
 up. Tim sat down and stared. What did it all 
 mean ? Nor had he less cause to wonder 
 when Carol came up to visit him ; he greeted 
 him with more than ordinary cordiality, and 
 then laughed a little, and then seemed to 
 forget his existence, becoming absorbed in 
 
 Q 
 
226 TIM CHAP. 
 
 a minute inspection of everything in the 
 room, as if he had never seen it before. 
 
 1 Holker isn t going to play in the next 
 match, began Tim, producing the cricket 
 shop he had been carefully storing himself 
 with for Carol s arrival. He missed three 
 catches on Tuesday, and as all his chance was 
 for his fielding, Jones has told Tuttiett he ll 
 try him. They say Holker s furious, and 
 swears if he don t get his eleven, it ll be 
 because Jones hates him, and will be sure to 
 spite him if he can. 
 
 Who s Jones ? inquired Carol dreamily. 
 
 Now Jones had been in his own eleven, 
 and they had played together in all the matches 
 only one short year before, not to mention 
 that they had been, as Tim knew, in close 
 correspondence ever since, the ex-captain 
 giving his successor the benefit of his greater 
 experience in all matters relating to the 
 government of the cricket world. 
 
 Who s Jones! echoed Tim in such 
 unfeigned surprise that Carol pulled himself 
 
x TIM 227 
 
 together, laughed again, and said he wasn t 
 thinking. 
 
 They talked about the eleven for a little, 
 but it was obvious that the old boy s heart 
 was not as heretofore in the talk, and presently 
 he wandered to the window, and began piti 
 lessly pulling to pieces one of Tim s best 
 fancy geraniums. Tim s flower-box was his 
 especial pride and glory ; he loved and tended 
 his flowers as no other boy in the house did, 
 and it is on record that on one occasion, when 
 he was watering them, and some of the water 
 had gone on the head of the big boy in the 
 room below, who happened to be talking out 
 of the window to a friend, that hero, having 
 come up breathing vengeance, had been so 
 struck with the beauty of the little garden that 
 he had sat down to talk about it, the wooden 
 spoon he had brought with him lying idly in 
 his lap. Ordinarily, Carol would not for the 
 world have injured one of these treasures, as 
 much from dislike of giving pain as from his 
 own feeling towards them, the result of Miss 
 
228 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Kate s early training. Tim could stand it 
 no longer. 
 
 Carol, he said, laying a timid hand on 
 the strong arm that was working havoc among 
 his pelargoniums, please forgive me for being 
 curious, but isn t there something up ? You 
 don t seem like yourself; and your letters 
 have been so rum lately. Is anything wrong ? 
 Can I do anything ? Won t you tell me 
 what s the matter ? 
 
 Carol turned and looked at him ; then he 
 took his hand and said gently 
 
 By Jove, Tim, what a clever little soul 
 you are ! fancy your noticing like that. Shall 
 I tell you ? After all, I d sooner tell you 
 than any one ; you ve always been the best 
 and truest friend a fellow ever had, though 
 there s so much difference in our ages/ 
 
 Tim was gratified. You ve always been 
 so good to me, Carol, he said, and I don t 
 care much for many people. 
 
 Can you keep a secret? asked his friend; 
 for it is a secret at present. 
 
x TIM 229 
 
 The tortures of the Inquisition, Tim pro 
 tested, should not draw a word from him, when 
 Carol had bid him be silent ; and then out 
 it all came. 
 
 Why shouldn t he tell him ? He might 
 think it odd of him to do so, but tell some one 
 he must, and the fact was, to cut a long story 
 short, he was in love. He remembered Miss 
 Markham Willis Violet ? (Yes, Tim remem 
 bered her, and with her a whole train of old 
 apprehensions.) Well, she was the girl he 
 was in love with, and she was the loveliest girl 
 in all England, and the kindest to her little 
 brothers and sisters, and, in fact, the most peer 
 less in all the relations of life ; and he knew 
 every one would say they were too young, but 
 he knew what love was, and he saw now that 
 he had loved her ever since they first met, and 
 he should never feel the same for any one 
 else, and Tim wasn t to say a word about it. 
 
 Standing there opposite to him, holding 
 his hands, his honest blue eyes wet with 
 emotion, and his voice that Tim had heard 
 
230 TIM CHAP. 
 
 always firm, and sometimes loud, trembling 
 as he made the confession of his young love, 
 there was something beautiful and touching 
 in the great strong boy ; he seemed to have 
 lost all his masterfulness, and to be quite meek 
 and uncertain of himself for the first time in 
 his life. And Tim, part frightened, and part 
 regretful, and part gratified at having been 
 selected as confidant on so important an 
 occasion, promised silence, would have 
 promised anything, in fact, that Carol had 
 demanded, and Carol, the floodgates of his 
 silence being burst at last, and the tide of his 
 feelings finding free vent, went on and said 
 much more. 
 
 Violet and her mother had been staying at 
 Cambridge for the May week with some Head 
 of a college who was their kinsman, and Carol 
 had been bound, in common politeness, to do 
 the honours of his University to his country 
 neighbours ; so that was how matters had 
 come to a crisis with him, and the conviction 
 had been borne in upon him in the intervals 
 
x TIM 231 
 
 of boat-races, flower-shows, and dancing that 
 for him there was and would always be but 
 one woman in the world. 
 
 And does she does she ? inquired 
 Tim discreetly. 
 
 Ah ! there s where it is, cried the other ; 
 * I think, I really think she likes me, but I 
 didn t dare speak ; it seemed as if it couldn t 
 be possible such a girl should really care for 
 me. 
 
 Not care for you I exclaimed Tim almost 
 angrily, and then he stopped, much em 
 barrassed. 
 
 Oh, you are such a staunch little friend ! 
 said Carol ; you think much too well of me, 
 don t you know. 
 
 But for all that he was cheered by his 
 friend s enthusiasm ; and the mere fact of 
 having unburthened himself to patient and 
 sympathetic ears sent him off more nearly 
 restored to his normal frame of mind, to dis 
 cuss the new choices with Jones, quite like a 
 sane mortal. 
 
232 TIM CHAP. 
 
 So Carol and Violet fell in love ; for it 
 was not many weeks after this that he found 
 the courage he had lacked at Cambridge, and 
 his modest thinking she liked him was 
 converted into triumphant certainty. They 
 were absurdly young of course. Violet was 
 only seventeen and Carol not yet twenty 
 when they first discovered they were made 
 for one another, and mutually imparted this 
 intelligence, as, I am told, is the manner of 
 young people. Of course, too, the old people, 
 as is their manner, scouted the notion, and 
 said, Nonsense ; boy and girl ; too young to 
 think of such things. But the tendency of 
 boys and girls being to get their way in 
 matters of this sort, in spite of much more 
 severe elders than Mr. and Mrs. Markham 
 Willis, or the dear old Darleys, a compromise 
 was at last effected. In two years, when 
 Carol left the University, if he and Violet 
 were still of the same mind the thing should 
 be ; but in the meanwhile they were not to be 
 considered engaged, and not to correspond, 
 
x TIM 233 
 
 a very wise decision, as it seems to me, and 
 one that reflected credit on all concerned. 
 So these two were to wait, as so many 
 others have done, and as they could well 
 afford to do at their age, having life be 
 fore them, and youth, and good looks, and 
 high spirits to cheer them through their 
 waiting. 
 
 Tim was installed as prime confidant, and 
 to him Carol told or wrote all his hopes and 
 fears. When the compromise was extracted 
 from the old people, he came radiant to the 
 manor-house, and finding Tim alone in the 
 garden, poured out all his golden dream to 
 him. 
 
 Two years were quite a short time to 
 wait ; many people had to wait half their lives. 
 He would serve for Violet as long as Jacob 
 had for Rachel, if need were ; and wasn t it 
 grand of her to promise to wait for him ? 
 though of course he could not accept such 
 a promise, and had quite refused to bind 
 her. 
 
234 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Tim listened to it all, now and then 
 squeezing his friend s hand in token of 
 sympathy and attention ; luckily he was not 
 expected to say much, for he would have been 
 rather at a loss what to say. His mind was 
 travelling one year back to the day when he 
 had gone up to the Court and found Violet 
 installed in the drawing-room there ; all the 
 
 O 
 
 thoughts so vague and unintelligible to him 
 then had taken form and substance ; now he 
 understood what the shadow was that had 
 fallen across his path that day ; that thing he 
 had dimly guessed at had come upon him, and 
 it was to him that Carol looked for rejoicing 
 in his joy. Of course he did rejoice, and felt 
 delighted that this new experience of his idol 
 seemed only to bring them nearer together 
 instead of separating them ; but was it really 
 so? It is true, he saw more of him than he 
 had ever done before, and when he went away 
 again, heard from him oftener ; but the talks 
 and the letters were full of Violet, and of 
 Violet only; she was the cause of it all. If 
 
x TIM 235 
 
 Carol desired his society, it was that to him 
 better than any one he could discourse of her 
 perfections ; if he wrote nearly every day, it 
 was that he was not allowed to write to her, 
 and the next best thing was writing about her. 
 Tim was useful only as the safety-valve 
 which allowed him to let off some of the 
 enthusiasm with which he was overflowing. 
 He would have liked to cry the name of his 
 beloved to all the winds ; failing that, it was 
 a comfort to hold forth on the subject either 
 with tongue or pen. And Tim saw all this 
 quite plainly, and somehow was not as grate 
 ful at being selected for the part he was 
 playing as he felt he should be. Would he 
 like it after all, he asked himself, since this 
 thing was to be (and he bowed before the 
 inevitable), had Carol selected any one else to 
 whom to lay open his heart ? He took himself 
 to task for not feeling happier in his friend s 
 happiness. This was not the devotion he had 
 vowed to him in his own heart, this selfish 
 ness that put himself before the object of his 
 
236 TIM CHAP, x 
 
 affection, which refused to dance at the dear 
 one s piping. Somehow he felt it would be 
 easier to lament at his mourning ; and for 
 this too he had by and by the opportunity, 
 as we shall see. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Love is strong as death. 
 Jealousy is cruel as the grave. 
 
 Solomon s Song. 
 
 HE wants great care and attention ; there is 
 no use denying it. He is not the sort of lad 
 with whom you can afford to run risks. He 
 has no stamina, none ; no constitution. I 
 don t say he is ill. God grant he may not 
 be, for he hasn t the strength to throw 
 things off as some boys do. 
 
 The speaker was the old Stoke Ashton 
 doctor, and the subject of his remarks was 
 Tim. It was a hard winter, and the boy 
 was not very well. He did not outgrow 
 his childish delicacy, though it would be 
 hard to say quite what was the matter 
 
238 TIM CHAP. 
 
 with him. Mrs. Quitchett used to trot 
 off to her old friend the doctor and have 
 long talks with him in his surgery, from 
 which she would come away blowing her 
 nose and very red about the eyelids. She 
 got him to drop in as if by accident every 
 now and then at the manor-house when 
 Tim was at home, and so accustomed was 
 the boy to these half friendly, half pro 
 fessional visits of his earliest friend that she 
 thought they awoke no suspicions in his 
 breast. It was after one of these unofficial 
 inspections that the old doctor delivered 
 himself of the above remark. 
 
 That s what you always said, replied 
 Mrs. Quitchett ; I must say you have always 
 said the same ; but he seems somehow 
 different this winter from what I ve ever 
 seen him before. 
 
 Do you think, asked the doctor, that he 
 can have anything on his mind ? Anything 
 like fretting would be the worst thing in 
 the world for him. I suppose, he added 
 
xi TIM 239 
 
 tentatively, he can t have got into any 
 trouble of any kind ? 
 
 Trouble! echoed Mrs. Quitchett scorn 
 fully; he s the best -behaved and steadiest 
 boy in the kingdom of Britain. He in any 
 trouble ; why, a saint from heaven would be 
 more likely ever to have a thought that 
 wasn t out of the Bible than him. As to his 
 having anything on his mind, what should 
 he have, poor lamb, I should like to know ? 
 
 The doctor said if she didn t know of any 
 thing, he certainly couldn t .be expected to ; 
 that he had only thrown out the suggestion 
 for what it was worth. Boys would be boys, 
 and the best of them got into scrapes 
 sometimes, and therewith took himself off. 
 
 But his nurse was wrong in supposing 
 that the doctor s frequent droppings-in were 
 lost upon Tim. I don t know otherwise 
 what train of thought it could have been 
 which led him one day to ask his father 
 whether his grandmother hadn t died rather 
 suddenly. The question surprised Mr. 
 
240 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Ebbesley, who wondered how the boy knew 
 anything about his grandparents. 
 
 Yes, he said, she died very suddenly. 
 
 Had she heart disease ? 
 
 No. I don t think she had anything of 
 that sort, but she had never been very 
 strong ; it was more a general lowness of 
 tone, something like breaking up, and yet 
 she was not an old woman. I think being 
 in that weak state she must have caught 
 something, but I remember very little about 
 it. I was quite a child at the time. 
 
 1 Then she was quite young when she 
 died ? 
 
 Oh yes, not thirty, I think ; all my 
 mother s family were delicate ; they were 
 not long-lived people. And Mr. Ebbesley 
 rather hastily changed the conversation. 
 This curiosity as to illness and death seemed 
 to him morbid and unhealthy, and perhaps 
 he feared the boy might go on by a natural 
 transition to ask about his own mother. 
 
 He had been even less at home than 
 
xi 77J/ 241 
 
 usual that winter, but he too had noticed in 
 his visits to the manor-house that his son 
 was not looking well, and this conversation, 
 chiming in with certain dark hints of Mrs. 
 Quitchett s, made him feel it a duty to have 
 him thoroughly examined before sending 
 him back to school. The Granthurst doctor 
 was sent for in addition to our old friend, 
 and the two together undressed Tim, and 
 sounded him, and thumped him, and did all 
 the inscrutable things doctors do. No/ 
 they said, there was no organic trouble. 
 The lungs were not affected ; the action of 
 the heart was weak, but not in any way 
 diseased ; the general tone was low ; the 
 circulation bad. He must not overtire him 
 self, must be made to dress warm, must be 
 well fed, etc. etc. etc. So Tim went back 
 to Eton with many injunctions from Mrs. 
 Quitchett, who was more than usually fussy 
 and particular in her directions to him, to be 
 very careful not to get tired or to sit in damp 
 clothes, and to be sure to put something 
 
 R 
 
242 TIM CHAP. 
 
 round his neck and over his mouth if he had 
 to go out at night. 
 
 Tim was sixteen that March. How our 
 story runs away with us, carrying us over years 
 in which he changed much in many ways, but 
 remained always unchanged on the side on 
 which my business is to show him. He had 
 been growing a good deal of late, yet he was 
 not tall for his age either, and his slight, 
 graceful figure made him look younger than 
 he really was. His hands too were small 
 delicate slender hands with long fingers, such 
 as do not often belong to boys who are quite 
 strong. Tommy Weston, who had a very 
 respectable-sized fist, used to chaff him about 
 them, and solemnly invent receipts for the 
 widening of them, which Tim took in very 
 good part, having a great regard for Tommy, 
 and not caring a brass farthing about his 
 hands. It was bitter cold at Eton that fives 
 half, and Tim, despite his warm clothes, was 
 chilly, and had to stay out several times. 
 
 But Easter came at last, mild, sweet, and 
 
xi TIM 243 
 
 smiling, as so often happens after a cold 
 winter. Easter was late that year, and the 
 cuckoo was calling from tree to tree and 
 wildflowers blowing in field and hedgerow 
 when Tim came home again. He was just 
 a little whiter, a little thinner, nothing very 
 noticeable, yet Mrs. Quitchett noticed it, and 
 the doctor s words spoken so many years 
 before came back to her kind old mind : 
 Things will affect him more than other 
 people all his life ; what would be nothing to 
 an ordinary person might kill him. She 
 remembered too his question as to whether 
 the boy could have anything on his mind. 
 
 Do you feel ill, my dearie ? she asked 
 him. 
 
 * Oh no, thanks, nurse dear, he answered. 
 You all make such a fuss over me that you 
 will end -by making me think there is some 
 thing really the matter. 7 
 
 * Tim, my lamb, asked the old woman 
 earnestly, you won t mind if I ask you a 
 question ? remember it s your old nurse, 
 
244 TIM CHAP. 
 
 who loves you better than any one else, and 
 don t be angry, you haven t, not by your 
 own fault I know, but out of kindness or 
 anything, you haven t got into any trouble at 
 school, have you ? 
 
 Why, what put that into your head? 1 
 asked Tim, and being tickled with the idea, 
 he laughed so heartily that Mrs. Quitchetl 
 was reassured on that head. 
 
 Still she persisted. There isn t anything, 
 then, that s troubling you, is there, dear, 
 nothing on your mind, as you may say ? 
 
 This time Tim did not laugh ; he looked 
 at her with some surprise, but he only said, 
 You dear silly old goose, what should I 
 have on my mind ? and kissed her, and so 
 the matter dropped. 
 
 But Mrs. Quitchett and the doctor were 
 not so far wrong after all ; say what he 
 would, Tim s illness was partly mental. 
 The cloud of his father s displeasure, un 
 expressed yet always present, shadowed 
 his whole life. Thus his greatest joy, 
 
xi TIM 245 
 
 his friendship with Carol, came to involve 
 his greatest grief, his alienation from the only 
 parent he had ever known ; and the constant 
 conflict of emotions told on the boy s sensitive 
 nature, and reacting on his bodily health, 
 helped to weaken his already too weak con 
 stitution. And Carol, meaning only to be 
 kind, contrived, like most well - meaning 
 
 o 
 
 people, to make matters worse by coming 
 to see him nearly every day. He could talk 
 unrestrainedly to him about Violet, as he 
 could to no one else ; besides, he too had 
 noticed the growing pallor and creeping 
 lassitude of Tim, and being really and 
 sincerely fond of his friend, began to grow 
 anxious about him. He rarely encountered 
 Mr. Ebbesley, and certainly never guessed 
 at his objecting to his intimacy with his son. 
 When they met, the older man was always 
 studiously polite to the younger ; if he was 
 rather cold too, it was not very noticeable, 
 Mr. Ebbesley s manner to the general public 
 not being chiefly remarkable for warmth or 
 
246 TIM CHAP. 
 
 geniality. Tim, however, lived on thorns ; 
 he had made his choice and would stick to it, 
 but he was particularly anxious to avoid doing 
 anything that could look like an act of open 
 defiance, and all this perpetual flourishing of 
 Carol about the place might very easily, in 
 his father s eyes, be made to bear such an 
 interpretation. Every time the two met he 
 underwent real suffering, such as no one 
 can understand who has not experienced 
 something like it. Mrs. Quitchett, noting 
 the shade that crossed her master s face, and 
 the quick flush and drooping of the eyelids 
 with which Tim mentioned Carol s name 
 every time circumstances obliged him to do 
 so in his father s presence, or rather, perhaps, 
 guided by that divine intuition which lends 
 a sort of second sight to those who love 
 much, arrived at some glimmering suspicion 
 of the state of affairs. The doctor s sugges 
 tion of Tim s having some secret cause of 
 worry had set her mind all agog to discover 
 and if possible remove it ; and Mr. Ebbesley s 
 
xi TIM 247 
 
 strange behaviour on the day of his return 
 from India recurred suddenly to her recollec 
 tion, and seemed to supply the clue to all 
 this mystery which her cross-questioning had 
 failed to extract from Tim. Now as then 
 her love made her bold, and she determined 
 to attack her master on the subject the next 
 time he came to Stoke Ashton. She had 
 carried her point then, and might again ; the 
 only thing that troubled her resolution was 
 an embarrassing doubt of what the point 
 precisely was that she desired to carry. 
 Then she had a definite thing to try for ; 
 she wished to extract permission for Carol to 
 come to the manor-house, and had succeeded 
 in doing so. But here was Carol coming 
 there every day, more than he had ever 
 done before. What she was to ask, she 
 knew not ; but she felt, as she would have 
 expressed it, that she would be guided to 
 speak when the time came, and she resolved 
 to make the attempt for her boy s sake. 
 
 If you please, sir, can I speak to you a 
 
248 TIM CHAP. 
 
 minute? she asked, planting herself in the 
 lion s path on the first opportunity that pre 
 sented itself. She felt that what she was 
 going to say bordered on impertinence, and 
 her heart quaked, though her face was calm. 
 
 Certainly, nurse, answered Mr. Ebbesley 
 with grave affability ; is it about the books ? 
 Do you want some money ? 
 
 Not at present, thank you, sir ; the fact 
 is, I want to speak to you. about your son. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley looked up quickly, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 Do you think that boy looks well ? 
 inquired Mrs. Quitchett impressively. 
 
 He certainly does not look as well as I 
 should like to see him, admitted the other 
 rather unwillingly, * but he never has done 
 that. As to his being ill, I can t find out 
 that there is anything the matter with him ; 
 he has been very thoroughly examined by 
 the doctors. Is there anything else you can 
 suggest ? 
 
 Shall I tell you what the doctor asked 
 
xi TIM 249 
 
 me ? asked the nurse, still with the air of 
 Nemesis. 
 
 * Certainly ; let me hear it, though I don t 
 suppose he is likely to have said anything 
 different to you from what he did to me. 
 
 He asked me, continued the old lady, ( if 
 the boy had anything on his mind, if he was 
 worried about anything. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley started. The conversation 
 was taking a turn he by no means ex 
 pected. 
 
 What in the world should a child like 
 that have to be worried about ? he asked 
 rather testily. 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett did not flinch. 
 
 1 If you ll excuse the liberty I m taking, 
 she said, I think I can tell you, sir. I may 
 be wrong, for I am only an ignorant old 
 woman ; but when anything ails that boy 
 I m just bound to try and find it out ; and I 
 think I have. 
 
 For Heaven s sake say out what you 
 mean ! exclaimed Mr. Ebbesley crossly ; if 
 
250 TIM CHAP. 
 
 there s anything you want me to do, tell me 
 what it is. 
 
 That boy s fretting, I can see plainly ; 
 and it s something to do with you and young 
 Mr. Darley, though I don t know what. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley jumped out of his chair 
 with a smothered execration, and began to 
 walk about the room. 
 
 Has my son been complaining of me to 
 you ? he asked presently. 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett smiled with fine scorn, not 
 untouched by pity, for the poor man who 
 understood his own child so little. 
 
 Not he, she answered laconically ; I 
 haven t so much as got one word out of him 
 about it, though I ve tried ; but he frets any 
 one may see that. And I m very much mis 
 taken if that s not what it s about. 
 
 What do you wish me to do ? asked 
 Mr. Ebbesley, sitting down again and putting 
 on his grand manner. Does not my son 
 have perfect liberty to see his friend as much 
 as he wishes ? Do I interfere in any way ? 
 
xi TIM 251 
 
 I can t say as you do, sir, answered Mrs. 
 Quitchett thoughtfully, and that s just what 
 puzzles me. The young man he come and 
 go as he likes, but your son s not at ease 
 about it ; and I notice that he never mentions 
 his friend to you if he can possibly help it. 
 You know you took a dislike to that boy 
 from the first day you came home and found 
 him here ; and whether you ve ever said so 
 to your son or not, he know it, and he 
 fret. 
 
 When Mrs. Quitchett felt strongly she 
 had a way of clipping the final s from the 
 third person singular of her verbs, which lent 
 a curious impressiveness to her remarks. 
 There was something so sternly judicial in 
 the old lady s attitude and manner that Mr. 
 Ebbesley felt called upon to make a defence 
 of himself. It seemed as though certain un 
 comfortable doubts as to his own conduct, 
 which had begun to trouble him of late, had 
 suddenly taken voice and shape and stood up 
 to confront him ; and the necessity of justifi- 
 
252 TIM CHAP. 
 
 cation that he felt addressed itself rather to 
 them than to his visible interlocutor. 
 
 It is true/ he said after a while, that I 
 have disapproved of Tim s foolish infatuation 
 for his young neighbour, and I have on one 
 occasion spoken to him about it. He has an 
 unhappy trick of exaggerating trifles, and in 
 the present case has chosen to make a mount 
 ain out of a molehill, as usual. I told him that 
 I thought he might with advantage to himself 
 be less like a silly schoolgirl in his friendship 
 and more like a man, and that I thought it 
 bad for him mentally and physically to sit 
 cramped up all day writing long sentimental 
 letters. He chose to talk a great deal of 
 nonsense about not "giving up his friend," 
 and all that kind of thing ; and now he is 
 playing at being the persecuted victim, who 
 bears ill-usage heroically for his friend s sake. 
 It is all on a par with the rest. He likes to 
 fancy himself the hero of a story. It s all 
 damn nonsense, he concluded suddenly, with 
 a rapid drop into irritability. 
 
xi TIM 253 
 
 Mrs. Ouitchett was routed ; she could say 
 no more. She felt that she had failed ; though 
 in other respects she hardly understood Mr. 
 Ebbesley s explanation, that point at least was 
 quite clear to her, and she began to make 
 a sort of apology, if she had presumed. 
 
 Her antagonist, feeling pleased with his 
 own exposition of the matter, graciously told 
 her not to distress herself, and added, I am 
 quite right, you may be sure, and, I need 
 not say, am acting solely for what I consider 
 to be the boy s own good. I have no per 
 sonal dislike to young Darley ; quite the 
 reverse. I am sure I am right, and some 
 clay or other, when he has come to his 
 senses, Tim will be the first to acknow 
 ledge it. 
 
 If he don t die in finding it out, muttered 
 Mrs. Quitchett as she left the room ; but Mr. 
 Ebbesley apparently did not catch what she 
 said. 
 
 Now Mr. Ebbesley was not alone in 
 objecting to the intimacy between the lads. 
 
254 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Miss Violet Markham Willis had on several 
 occasions, when she had expressed her 
 sovereign will and pleasure that Carol should 
 do this or that, been met by the answer that 
 he must go and see Tim, who, he was sure, 
 was not well, and who must be dreadfully 
 lonely and blue all by himself in that old 
 frog-hole of a manor-house. Carol in so 
 doing was performing an act of highest 
 self-abnegation, and never doubted that 
 Violet must know it to be such, and approve 
 of his motive. And she, with the odd per 
 versity of young ladies in love, never hinted 
 that she did nothing of the kind. But it is 
 
 o 
 
 one thing voluntarily to sacrifice oneself to a 
 sense of duty, and quite another to be sacri 
 ficed, without one s consent, to some one 
 else s sense of duty. She had never shot 
 Tim with a gun, and afterwards amused his 
 slow convalescence, or delivered him from 
 stoning, or loftily received his admiring 
 devotion for eight years ; consequently it was 
 not to be expected that she should in any 
 
xi TIM 255 
 
 way share Carol s feeling about him ; and to 
 her he seemed only a most uninteresting and 
 unnecessary little person, who was constantly 
 interfering between her and her legitimate 
 property. As a consequence of all which, 
 Carol s amiability struck her as overdone, 
 and she was decidedly inclined to dislike the 
 unhappy object of it. 
 
 Now it happened at this time that Mrs. 
 Markham Willis gave her hard -worked 
 governess a holiday, the first for two years, 
 and Violet undertook to rule the schoolroom 
 in her absence. The little Markham Willises 
 were what is called lively, high-spirited chil 
 dren, and finding the yoke off their necks, they 
 became pretty nearly unmanageable, and gave 
 their elder sister a great deal of trouble. Violet 
 was a very good girl in her way, but by no 
 means a saint ; she liked to enjoy herself, and 
 to have her own way, and to be a good deal 
 petted and flattered, and told how nice and 
 how pretty she was ; and this severe and 
 unusual strain on her patience proved a little 
 
256 TIM 
 
 too much for her temper. She had under 
 taken this, being really anxious to be of use 
 to her mother, and from the best of motives, 
 and she was determined to go through with 
 it and not complain, but she was having a 
 rough time of it ; and, moreover, it galled 
 her pride to have to acknowledge that she 
 could not keep the order that seemed to 
 result as though by magic from the mere 
 presence of the meek, colourless Fraulein, 
 whom in her heart she had always rather 
 looked down upon. She felt sick and cross 
 and bitter, and as some one else always has to 
 suffer when any one is in that frame of mind, 
 poor Carol came in for trouble in the present 
 instance as being the handiest and likeliest 
 person on whom to vent her displeasure. 
 
 It is far oftener for some one else s faults 
 than for our own that we receive chastise 
 ment at the hands of our friends and relatives, 
 and for the most part we do not even know 
 whose sins it is that we are bearing vicari 
 ously. Maggie Tulliver had an old wooden 
 
xi TIM 257 
 
 doll that she ground and beat when impo- 
 tently hating her fellow-creatures, and Violet 
 pitched upon her lover to act this uncom 
 fortable part. Perhaps their true love had 
 run a little too smooth if anything, and with 
 human unreasonableness, she may have felt 
 that a little breeze in that direction might 
 clear the air and infuse the proper amount of 
 necessary excitement into the long wooing, 
 which threatened to become a trifle prosaic. 
 Anyhow it is certain that Carol was made to 
 suffer. And when anything ailed Carol, Tim, 
 you may be sure, was not long in finding it 
 out. He noticed that his friend came in and 
 sat down wearily, asking how he was in a 
 sort of perfunctory manner, as one whose 
 mind was elsewhere. (Ordinarily Carol s 
 advent was made known by shouts or sing 
 ing long before he entered the house.) He 
 walked about aimlessly and stared out of 
 window, much as he had done on that 
 memorable day at Eton. Tim forbore to 
 press for confidences until Carol felt inclined 
 
 s 
 
258 TIM CHAP. 
 
 to make them ; indeed, he almost hoped he 
 would make none ; he felt trouble in the air 
 by a sort of instinct, and shrank from fresh 
 burthens, with sheer physical weakness. 
 Carol could talk of nothing, settle to nothing, 
 and soon went away ; he was manifestly 
 distressed about something. Again, the next 
 day, he was even more dejected, and on the 
 third he broke silence. 
 
 I ve been poor company these last few 
 days, he said with a sudden effort, but I ve 
 been thinking of my own affairs, I m afraid, 
 and not of you at all. The fact is I m 
 infernally miserable, and you must try not to 
 mind me. 
 
 You miserable ! Oh, Carol, why didn t 
 you say so sooner ? Can I do anything for 
 you ? Do tell me what s the matter. 
 
 There ! I knew I should make you 
 wretched; I m a selfish brute to come and 
 make you unhappy too ; but I can t help it. 
 I ve tried to say nothing about it. 
 
 4 And do you suppose, asked Tim re- 
 
xi TIM 259 
 
 proachfully, that I haven t seen that some 
 thing was wrong ? How blind you must think 
 me ; or else that I care very little about you, 
 not to have noticed. 
 
 1 I suppose I ought to have stayed away, 
 said poor Carol dejectedly. * I m not fit com 
 pany for a dog when I m out o spirits, but I 
 try to keep cheery at home for the sake of 
 the dear old people ; and it s such a comfort 
 to give up every now and then, and look as 
 gloomy as one feels. I m a bad hand at pre 
 tending ; indeed, I ve never had to before. 
 
 You need not trouble to with me, at least, 
 said Tim, smiling faintly ; * I know you far 
 too well not to see through it in a minute. 
 But all this time you haven t told me what s 
 the matter. 
 
 Carol blushed hotly. Violet he 
 
 stammered, and then stopped abruptly. 
 
 Oh, Carol ! Tim exclaimed, aghast, 
 
 you don t mean to say she The 
 
 thought was too awful to be put into words, 
 but Carol answered it. 
 
260 TIM CHAP. 
 
 No ; not exactly, he admitted moodily ; 
 not in so many words, but that s what it s 
 coming to, I can see. 
 
 And then he went on to tell how Violet s 
 manner had changed to him of late. She 
 was no longer as she once was, but more as 
 though he had offended her somehow, and 
 yet he could think of nothing he had done. 
 No, clearly it was not his fault ; she had got 
 tired of him, that was all, and meant to throw 
 him over ; it was very natural, and he had 
 been a fool to expect anything else. She 
 was a great deal too good for him, and he 
 couldn t blame her. Had not he himself 
 refused to bind her ? She had been too 
 young to know her own mind, and had seen 
 so few people ; he supposed she d seen some 
 other fellow she liked better and the poor 
 boy ground his teeth at the bare thought. 
 She had a perfect right to do as she liked, 
 and it was good of her to let him down easy ; 
 anyway he must try and take it like a man, 
 and not make a fool of himself. 
 
XI 
 
 TIM 261 
 
 On another occasion he broke down 
 altogether. Violet/ he said, had shown 
 her coldness towards him in the most 
 marked way ; he had seen her coming down 
 the road alone, and had hurried forward, 
 determined at all risks to ask what had 
 changed her towards him, any certainty, 
 even the worst, would be better than this 
 suspense. But when she saw him, she had 
 turned down a lane obviously to avoid him, 
 and he had not had the heart to follow her. 
 The poor fellow looked almost as pale as 
 Tim, and actually burst out crying when he 
 came to this point in his narrative. It was 
 the first time in all their long intercourse 
 that Tim had ever seen Carol cry, and the 
 act seemed so utterly foreign to his hero, 
 and out of keeping in every way, that it 
 filled him with dismay, and took from him 
 all power of comfort or reasoning. 
 
 Oh, Carol ! oh, dear dear Carol ! please 
 don t, was all he could say ; the sight of tears 
 in those eyes was more than he could stand. 
 
262 TIM CHAP. 
 
 He could only accompany him home, 
 giving him the help of his sympathetic 
 silence, and wisely refraining from all 
 attempts at speech. 
 
 Thanks, dear old boy, Carol said as he 
 wrung his hand at parting ; you ve done me 
 lots of good ; and Tim went away alone for 
 a little stroll through the woods to ponder 
 on all this network of trouble. Things too 
 deep for his comprehension seemed to be 
 closing in upon him. That he should be 
 unhappy had come to appear to him more 
 or less in the natural order of things ; but 
 Carol ! 
 
 What manner of creature then was this 
 girl who could so sway the first of men ? 
 To what order of beings did she belong, 
 who might have Carol for her very own, 
 and exist in perpetual happiness with him, 
 in perfect interchange of affection, no one 
 blaming or thwarting her ; who yet treated 
 him like this and made him wretched ? 
 Many possibilities had suggested themselves 
 
xi TIM 263 
 
 to Tim, but never this one. He was con 
 fused ; his head ached with thinking. The 
 cheerful sights and sounds of the wood, 
 now beginning to deck itself with its first 
 green, the bustle of the birds at their early 
 nest- building, the delicate yellow of the 
 primroses gemming the ground all about his 
 feet, which at another time would have been 
 lovingly noted by him, had to-day no mes 
 sage of comfort for the puzzled boy, as he 
 vainly tried to find the ends of these tangled 
 threads of life, and love, sorrow, and anger. 
 
 Presently his path led him out of the 
 wood into a little parklike strip of meadow- 
 land, skirting the lane that would take him 
 home. The boundary hedge was set on a 
 bank sloping gently this way and that, but 
 the meadow was on a higher level than the 
 lane. It was a balmy soft afternoon, unusu 
 ally mild for the time of year, and Tim was 
 rather tired with his walk ; the thought just 
 crossed his mind, how much more easily 
 tired he seemed to be now than formerly, as 
 
264 TIM CHAP. 
 
 he sat down on the soft moss and leaned his 
 head against the trunk of a large tree that 
 grew on the summit of the bank, jutting out 
 from the hedge on either side. How long 
 he sat there he did not know ; he must have 
 fallen into a kind of unconsciousness, for he 
 did not think he was asleep. 
 
 He was roused at length by a sound of 
 voices, and peeping through the hedge he 
 could discern the tops of two feminine hats, 
 whose wearers had evidently seated them 
 selves on the lane side of the bank to rest, 
 directly below where he was. He was rising 
 to pass on, when his attention was attracted 
 by the mention of his own name and that of 
 Carol, in a voice that made him thrill ; it 
 was Violet Markham Willis who was speak 
 ing. He could not go on now ; his legs 
 refused their office, and he sank down again 
 in the same place. With instinctive repulsion 
 from the meanness of eavesdropping, he 
 tried to call out to warn her that he was 
 there but no sound came from his lips. He 
 
xi TL\f . 265 
 
 was as though paralysed, yet with all his 
 senses morbidly acute ; and then his whole 
 being seemed to resolve itself into an 
 imperious necessity not to lose a word of 
 this conversation. 
 
 Violet spoke in a high aggrieved tone, 
 not difficult to catch in the stillness of the 
 spring evening. Mrs. Markham Willis had 
 made some remark on her daughter s altered 
 looks and manner of late, and Violet, con 
 cealing the schoolroom troubles, had laid 
 the blame on Carol, whereupon her mother 
 had said a word of expostulation on that 
 head too. 
 
 Oh, Carol ! the girl was saying, when 
 her voice first struck Tim s ear. Carol 
 doesn t care two straws about me ; he may 
 have fancied himself in love with me at first, 
 but it s easy to see he s tired of me. Would 
 he be perpetually running after that nasty 
 little Ebbesley friend of his, if he were really 
 fond of me ? he s always with him, far more 
 than he is with me, I m sure. 
 
266 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Dearest Violet, her mother answered, 
 are you not a little unreasonable ? I can t 
 see, I m sure, what Carol finds so attractive 
 in that boy, though I fancy it is his kind 
 ness. The poor fellow is delicate, and very 
 fond of him ; and after all, he has a right to 
 choose his own friends. 
 
 { I should be the last to wish to deny it to 
 him, Violet retorted defiantly ; he can make 
 a free choice ; if he prefers " Tim," as he calls 
 him, to me, let him have his choice by all 
 means. And rather inconsistently with her 
 brave words, she began to cry. She was 
 wrought up and nervous, anxious to make 
 something appear like a tangible grievance. 
 
 Oh, my darling, consider, cried Mrs. 
 Markham Willis ; are you not trifling with 
 your own happiness ? I am sure Carol loves 
 you very much, poor fellow ; and you know 
 it too, if it were not for this foolish misunder 
 standing. Tell me, dear, what makes you 
 think he cares so much for this friend ? 
 
 What makes me think ! echoed Violet, 
 
xi TIM 267 
 
 sobbing. Doesn t he always say he must 
 go to him, if I suggest our doing anything 
 together ? Isn t he for ever talking about 
 him, and making him an excuse to get away 
 from me ? If he wants me to play second 
 fiddle to that ridiculous boy, he s just mis 
 taken ; I ll never marry a man with an 
 intimate friend. Never. 
 
 Dear dear Violet ! don t talk so loud ; 
 some one is coming. Oh ! don t cry, darling ; 
 do dry your eyes. I wouldn t have any one 
 see you crying here in the public lane for 
 worlds. Have some self-respect, for my 
 sake if not for your own. Oh ! dear, come 
 quick ; your eyes are quite red, and you 
 have no veil ; and some one really is 
 coming. 
 
 So this was the conclusion, the ex 
 planation of the whole matter. It was he, 
 Tim, that was the bar to the happiness of 
 the one being he loved more than all the 
 world. There was an irony in it all that 
 made it hard, very hard. There are moments 
 
268 TIM CHAP. 
 
 in which thought gallops with us, and Tim s 
 resolve was taken so quickly that he wondered 
 at himself. Not for an instant did he waver, 
 nor rejoice that if he would, he could keep 
 his friend to himself. Even the thought 
 that Carol cared enough for him to make 
 the girl to whom he was virtually engaged 
 suppose that she held only a secondary place 
 in his affections, could not shake his purpose. 
 His duties all pointed one way that to his 
 father and that to his friend brought into 
 sudden harmony in a way he had little 
 looked for. Yes, duties pointed one way, 
 but feelings tugged the other ; and though 
 resolved to follow duty, he had a hard 
 struggle to quiet the turmoil within him. 
 He walked home very slowly, strengthening 
 himself in his purpose. Nothing ever shall, 
 Carol had said ; at least it will be your fault 
 if it does. How well he remembered the 
 words, and his own scorn of such an impos 
 sibility. Now they mocked his wretched 
 ness, and with them recurred another sentence 
 
xi TIM 269 
 
 from quite a different conversation. His 
 own words to his father seemed to rise in 
 judgment against him, and he did not try 
 to appeal from them. If one loved a person 
 truly, one would do anything for him, even 
 give him up. He was determined that he 
 would never repay all Carol s kindness by 
 ruining his life for him. He did not pause 
 to think of what he was doing to his own ; 
 that was a side of the question on which he 
 found it safer not to dwell at present. 
 
 When he reached home he went straight 
 to the room where he knew he should find 
 his father. Going up to him, he said, Do 
 you remember our talk about Carol Darley, 
 just a year ago ? He spoke low and quickly, 
 holding his hat in one hand and supporting 
 himself at the table with the other. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley could not help a hasty 
 questioning look ; he was taken by surprise ; 
 but he answered coldly, Perfectly ; I am 
 not likely to forget. You were good enough 
 on that occasion to inform me that you pre- 
 
270 TIM CHAP, xi 
 
 ferred that young gentleman to me, and that 
 you intended deliberately to disobey my 
 express desires, which I must say you have 
 done most thoroughly. 
 
 It was the first time I ever disobeyed 
 you, and you don t know what it cost me ; 
 but that is not the point. Since then I have 
 thought it over ; I am come to say that I 
 will do as you wish. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley was more surprised than 
 ever, but he would have died rather than 
 show it. He only said, I am glad to hear 
 it ; I don t ask what has brought you to your 
 senses at last ; I suppose you have had a 
 quarrel. 
 
 But Tim did not answer ; his heart was 
 too full. He was wrought to the utmost 
 pitch of endurance of which he was capable. 
 He could not have said another word to 
 save his soul. He hurried almost stumbling 
 from the room ; the necessity to be alone 
 was strong upon him. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 But sworn I have ; and never must 
 Your banished servant trouble you ; 
 For if I do, you may mistrust 
 The vow I made to love you, too. 
 
 HERRICK. 
 
 THE next time Carol came to the manor- 
 house Tim was not to be found ; he had run 
 and hidden himself in the garden when he 
 saw him coming. Crouching among the 
 bushes, he could hear the dearly-loved voice 
 calling him by the familiar nickname, and 
 his courage nearly gave out ; he pressed his 
 hands over his mouth as though he would 
 choke back the answering cry that rose 
 naturally to his lips. 
 
 1 Tim, Tim ! shouted Carol, where are 
 you ? 
 
272 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Either there was, or Tim fancied there was, 
 a tone of disappointment in the voice. Carol 
 was in trouble ; Carol had need of him, and he 
 must hear him call and let him go unsatisfied 
 away. It was his free act too ; no one had 
 compelled him to it. But it was for Carol s own 
 sake ; and in that thought alone he was strong. 
 
 For weeks afterwards, in the silence of the 
 night, whenever he lay awake (and he lay 
 awake a good deal in those nights), he heard 
 that voice calling to him, Tim, Tim ! in 
 saddest accents of one that sought something 
 on which he had counted, and found it not. 
 He felt that his one chance lay in avoiding 
 a meeting with Carol, and the constant watch 
 and care to do so told on him fearfully, 
 making him nervous and excitable. He 
 dreaded to stay at home, lest his friend 
 should come and see him, and almost more 
 to go out, lest he should come upon him 
 unawares. He could settle to nothing ; every 
 step on the path, every voice, every opening 
 door, made him start and tremble, and when 
 
xii TIM 273 
 
 he could stand it no longer, and seized his 
 hat to rush out no matter where, he would 
 be taken with such an agony of apprehension 
 before he had gone a hundred yards, that 
 he had scarcely strength to get back to the 
 house. No one will ever know what he 
 suffered in those few days ; and when his 
 father, taking pity on his altered looks, 
 offered to take him to the seaside till it 
 should be time for him to return to Eton, he 
 eagerly accepted. Not a word was spoken 
 between them about Carol ; the subject 
 was avoided by tacit consent. William 
 Ebbesley wondered not a little what had 
 influenced his son to act as he had done, but 
 he would not ask. He had long given up 
 trying to understand the boy, who was as 
 full of incomprehensible moods as a woman. 
 He concluded that deference to his wishes 
 had not had a large share in determining 
 him, but there he did Tim injustice. Any 
 way his point was gained, and he could 
 afford to be magnanimous ; so the two went 
 
 T 
 
274 TIM CHAP. 
 
 off to the sea together for the remaining 
 week or ten days of Tim s holidays. 
 
 Poor Carol failed utterly at first to under 
 stand what had happened. Tim was never 
 to be found when he went to the manor-house, 
 never came to the Court. Then one day 
 the answer to his inquiry was that Mr. 
 Ebbesley and Tim were gone away to the 
 seaside together. Tim was poorly, the 
 little maid who trembled under Mrs. Quit- 
 chett told him, needed change of air, the 
 doctor had said. 
 
 And had he left no message for him ? 
 Carol asked; was she sure there was none ? 
 
 Yes ; the little maid thought she was sure 
 there was none. Mrs. Quitchett was out, but 
 she would ask her when she came in. 
 
 Carol went away sad at heart. Tim would 
 write, he told himself, was sure to write. He 
 would not yet believe that Tim could mean 
 anything. He was not well ; he had had to 
 go away suddenly ; he would be sure to write 
 in a day or two. So he waited the day or two, 
 
xii TIM 275 
 
 but still Tim made no sign. Then Carol got 
 the address from Mrs. Quitchett, and wrote 
 himself, but no answer came back. He began 
 to grow anxious after that ; to imagine all sorts 
 of possibilities ; he had not known how fond 
 he was of his friend. He determined to go 
 again to the manor-house, and ask if the 
 accounts of Tim were good. 
 
 Yes ; Mrs. Quitchett thanked him ; she 
 had had a letter from him that morning, and 
 he said he was better. He liked the sea, 
 and thought it was doing him good. 
 
 And was there any any message or 
 anything ? in short, anything about me in the 
 letter ? Carol asked with a little proud 
 hesitation. 
 
 No, there was nothing ; Mrs. Quitchett 
 had noticed it and thought it strange. But 
 doubtless he means to write you a long letter 
 himself one of these days/ said the good- 
 natured old woman ; he knew his old nurse 
 would be anxious, God bless him ! and so he 
 wrote to her first. 
 
276 TIM CHAP. 
 
 But the letter Mrs. Quitchett predicted 
 never came. If he is well enough to write 
 to her, Carol thought, he is surely up to 
 sending me just a line, if only to say how 
 he is ; he might know I should be anxious. 
 And he felt, not unnaturally, a little hurt. 
 He would not write again until Tim chose 
 to answer his first letter, which had been all 
 a kindly affectionate heart could make it, 
 sympathy for his ill-health, regret at his going, 
 and no hint of blame at the manner of it, not 
 a word about himself. He had done what 
 he could ; now he would wait. 
 
 These were sad times for Carol ; he was so 
 unused to sorrow that it had all the added 
 weight of strangeness. Violet seemed to 
 have given him up, and now Tim Tim, to 
 whom he had turned in his grief with such 
 implicit reliance, just when most he needed 
 the support of friendship and kindness, Tim 
 had thrown him over too. 
 
 I bored him with my troubles, said the 
 poor boy to himself a little bitterly ; it was 
 
xii TIM 277 
 
 very natural ; one could not expect a child 
 like that to feel interest in such a subject. 
 And yet he seemed so fond of me, and he 
 never was quite like other boys of his age 
 older and younger at once, somehow. Well, 
 well, who would have thought he was only 
 a fair-weather friend after all ! 
 
 He did not know, poor fellow, all that the 
 ( fair-weather friend had borne, and was bear 
 ing, for his sake ; he could not see him sitting 
 gazing out to sea hour after hour, with eyes 
 that saw nothing, and ears to which the long 
 wash of the waves upon the beach kept 
 always calling Tim, Tim ! in the never-to- 
 be-forgotten tones that he had heard but the 
 other day in the old manor-house garden. 
 
 But when things are at their worst they 
 generally mend, and Carol presently found a 
 star rising on his night that promised to 
 comfort him not a little. It was about this 
 time that Miss Markham Willis, finding that 
 the role she had assumed was anything but 
 an easy or pleasant one, finding too that the 
 
278 TIM CHAP. 
 
 obnoxious Tim had gone away, and seeing 
 that Carol looked delightfully miserable as 
 he made her a fine sarcastic bow when they 
 occasionally met in their walks or rides, began 
 wisely to consider that it did not make her 
 domestic worries easier to bear to cut her 
 self off from her principal extraneous source 
 of enjoyment, and so determined to take pity 
 on her lover, and show him some signs of 
 kindness. At first these only took the form 
 of a few gracious smiles. Then finding that 
 these had not quite the effect she desired, she 
 made her mother take her to call at the Court, 
 and there, as she had hoped, was Carol. 
 
 1 Why, Lily dear, I mean Violet ! cried 
 old Mrs. Darley, I declare you are quite a 
 stranger ; where have you hidden yourself all 
 these days ? 
 
 Oh ! there has been so much to do at 
 home, dear Mrs. Darley/ answered Violet, all 
 radiant with smiles, and glowing on Carol at 
 second-hand through grandmamma. You 
 know Fraulein has gone away for a holiday, so 
 
xii TIM 279 
 
 I have all the children on my hands from 
 morning till night. I never appreciated poor 
 Fraulein before ; but now I have had a taste 
 of what her life is, I feel quite differently 
 towards her ; if it was only the bread- 
 and-butter. I assure you, I rival Goethe s 
 Charlotte in the art of cutting bread-and- 
 butter. 
 
 * Dear, dear, do young folks read the 
 sorrows of What s-his-name nowadays ? My 
 poor dear mother never would allow us to. 
 She said it was a dreadful book, and that 
 when it first came out it made all the young 
 men commit suicide. To tell the truth, when 
 I did read it, I didn t think it very interesting, 
 but perhaps I am not a good judge. You do 
 take sugar, Mrs. Wilkins, don t you ? 
 
 * Please yes, a little ; thank you, quite 
 enough. I do hope, Mrs. Darley, I haven t 
 let Violet read anything improper ; what you 
 said just now about that book, you know. 
 But Fraulein told me all young ladies 
 read it in Germany as being a classic. I 
 
280 TIM CHAP. 
 
 don t read German myself, but I placed 
 reliance on her. 
 
 Carol meanwhile held obstinately in the 
 background, looking black as a thunder-cloud, 
 and strongly inclined to compare himself 
 with the other unfortunate who was cursed 
 with love for a woman that cut bread-and- 
 butter. But when the visitors rose to take 
 leave, while the elders were making their 
 little farewell speeches, Violet took occasion 
 to say to him in an undertone, and with a 
 look of gentlest expostulation 
 
 Are you angry with me, Carol ? you 
 haven t been to see us for an age ; won t you 
 come and see us again ? 
 
 Had he been dreaming ? he wondered ; was 
 it all a mistake of his, this fancied coldness 
 on her part ? She spoke with such entire 
 innocence, a little justly hurt, but ready to 
 forgive, that he began to think it must have 
 been his fault. His resentment was not proof 
 against this ; he pressed the little handshe held 
 out to him, and promised to come next day. 
 
XII 
 
 TIM 281 
 
 I am going primrosing in the morning/ 
 she said, in Fern Dingle, so it is no good 
 coming then. 
 
 And on the way home she seemed in such 
 high spirits, that her mother stole her hand 
 into hers and asked her what she had said to 
 Carol. But Violet for all answer trilled out 
 the words of an old catch 
 
 The falling out of faithful friends, renewal is of love, 
 
 until the woods echoed to her bright clear 
 singing ; and then, putting her arm round her 
 mother, she said, Silly mamma/ and kissed 
 her. 
 
 Of course Carol vowed to himself that 
 nothing should tempt him to go near Fern 
 Dingle the next morning, and of course he 
 went ; and there, over the big half-filled 
 basket of primroses, the lovers made up this 
 not very terrible quarrel. Violet was half 
 contrite, half reproachful, wholly gentle and 
 charming. 
 
 Had she been sulky ? she half feared so ; 
 but she had been dreadfully busy, and the 
 
282 TIM CHAP. 
 
 children had been a little tiresome sometimes, 
 and she had been rather out of sorts. Carol 
 must forgive her if she had unwittingly hurt 
 him; how could he suppose she meant any 
 thing ; he ought to have known she didn t. 
 
 And Carol, we may be sure, was not very 
 hard to melt. He began, on the contrary, to 
 feel that it was he who was in the wrong 
 for having doubted Violet s constancy ; but 
 for this he, in his turn, received absolution, 
 and was presently taken back into favour. 
 
 As to Tim, his name was not mentioned 
 between them ; if they thought about him 
 at all, which is unlikely, they certainly did 
 not waste these precious moments in talking 
 about him. Violet s little spurt of indigna 
 tion against him was of the most transitory 
 nature ; had she recollected it, it would have 
 been to be rather ashamed of it ; besides, he 
 was gone away, and that was enough ; and 
 Carol would certainly not have introduced a 
 subject on which he was feeling a little sore. 
 Violet was restored to him ; the first cloud 
 
xii TIM 283 
 
 that had shadowed his young brightness 
 had rolled away ; and nothing else seemed to 
 matter much. He went back to Cambridge 
 in a far more peaceful frame of mind, and 
 plunged with robust cheerfulness into all the 
 pleasures of the May term. 
 
 One day the old Squire, meeting Mr. 
 Ebbesley on the road, stopped his pony to 
 ask after Tim. 
 
 Sorry to hear your boy was not quite 
 strong, Ebbesley/ he said kindly. 
 
 Thank you, said Mr. Ebbesley; he is 
 quite well again now, and gone back to school. 
 
 Ah ! I must tell Carol when I write ; he ll 
 be glad to hear it ; the boys are fond of one 
 another ; but most likely the young un will 
 be writing to him himself. 
 
 Ah! by the way, Mr. Barley, that 
 reminds me, if you are writing to your 
 grandson, will you kindly say my boy hopes 
 he will excuse his not writing to him at 
 present? he has to read rather hard for his 
 upper division trials, and by the doctor s 
 
284 TIM CHAP, 
 
 advice, I discourage his working his brain 
 in other ways, too/ 
 
 Quite right, quite right. When I was a 
 lad we didn t write letters much. To be 
 sure, it was before the penny post ; but I 
 can t say I should have used it much if it 
 had been invented. I never was a good 
 correspondent ; I don t think I ever wrote 
 to my poor dear father when I was a lad 
 except when I wanted money, which I 
 generally didn t get. Well, good-bye. Can 
 you come and dine with us, Tuesday ? 
 
 Thank you, but I am obliged to go to 
 town again to-morrow. 
 
 And so the two men separated ; and, the 
 Squire s memory not being of the best, 
 Carol never got the message. 
 
 It was quite true ; Tim was trying very 
 hard to drown in work the recollection of 
 his troubles. It is not easy to take bodily 
 out of one s life a sentiment, the growth of 
 nearly eight years, and not feel the change ; 
 and Tim s was not a nature to which changes 
 
xii TIM 285 
 
 came easily. To take his devotion to Carol 
 out of his life, did I say ? Why, it was his 
 life ; it had begun when he first began to 
 feel anything, and had grown with his growth 
 ever since. In some fantastic way every 
 thing else in the world seemed to cluster 
 round that central point ; nothing was of 
 interest until he had somehow brought it 
 into relation with this ruling and pervading 
 sentiment. And it was this that he had 
 undertaken to cast from him and forget. 
 He felt as some flower might which a child 
 had plucked from its root, and then stuck 
 back in the ground expecting it to go on 
 growing as heretofore. 
 
 As often happens, after the very cold 
 winter came an unusually hot summer. The 
 air seemed to pulse and vibrate. Scarcely 
 a leaf stirred of the lime-trees before the 
 chapel, heavy and odorous with their wealth 
 of blossom, and drowsy with the hum of 
 innumerable bees. The boys grew languid 
 and listless over their lessons, and even over 
 
286 TIM CHAP. 
 
 their games. They fell asleep in three 
 o clock school, an offence with which the 
 masters could not in their hearts but feel a 
 secret sympathy. The dust seemed to spring 
 eternal, almost from under the very hose of the 
 water-cart that went ceaselessly to and fro 
 through the highways of the old school, and 
 the pelargoniums and fuchsias drooped in the 
 window-boxes, because their owners had not 
 the energy to water them. Eton is a healthy 
 place, in spite of all its enemies say to the 
 contrary, and the life there is for most boys 
 the healthiest that could be devised. But 
 Tim was not as most boys. To him, to eat, 
 sleep, and study in one small room, to wear 
 a high hat and a tight black cloth coat, with 
 the thermometer at something fabulous in 
 the shade, was very trying. The heat that 
 made other lads drowsy and languid, roused 
 him to unnatural and feverish alertness ; so 
 far from sleeping in school, he did not sleep 
 at all. When we reflect that in addition to 
 this he was fretting day and night over his 
 
xii TIM 287 
 
 hidden sorrow, a sorrow from which he was 
 persistently trying to find escape in extra 
 hard work, in spite of headaches and other 
 warning signs, the result is not difficult to 
 foretell. What wonder if he broke down ? 
 He never went in for those upper division 
 trials. One day he did not come to dinner, 
 he the soul of regularity ; and when they 
 went to look for him they found him stretched 
 on the floor of his room, his face white and 
 set, his eyes open, but with no consciousness 
 in them. They put him to bed and sent for 
 the doctor, who pronounced it a curious 
 case. 
 
 It is no doubt partly the heat, he said, 
 and he has been working too hard ; but he 
 must have been in a wretched state of health 
 to begin with ; neither the weather nor his 
 work is enough to account for it. 
 
 He has never been very strong, answered 
 his tutor, and lately I have noticed that he 
 has been working very hard, harder than 
 was necessary even. I have had once or 
 
288 TIM CHAP. 
 
 twice to put on the drag, a thing I am very 
 seldom forced to do. 
 
 He must have perfect rest and quiet, 
 and must not write or read even the lightest 
 books for a long time to come ; when he is 
 able to bear the move, he had better be 
 
 taken home. 
 
 
 
 So the tutor went and wrote a kind 
 sympathetic letter to Mr. Ebbesley, telling 
 him his son was ill. How ill he thought 
 him he took care not to say, but he did 
 say enough to carry an awful dread to the 
 father s heart. A chill foreboding seized 
 upon him, and would not be shaken off, a 
 presentiment that he was to lose his child, 
 that child so zealously longed for, so little 
 appreciated, and yet in a way so deeply 
 loved. 
 
 William Ebbesley was in no sense of the 
 word religious ; the rough struggle with the 
 world that had filled his early years had not 
 tended to bring him into the devotional atti 
 tude, nor had he ever been visited by one of 
 
xii TIM 289 
 
 those overwhelming joys that sweep the soul, 
 whatever the nature of its beliefs, with an 
 imperious necessity for giving thanks. And 
 great and terrible as had been some of his 
 sorrows, they had been such as harden and 
 embitter rather than the reverse. But now 
 he felt in some dim way a kind of wonder if 
 this were intended as a punishment to him 
 for the little regard he had paid to the one 
 blessing of his life, which, in that it did not 
 bless him in strict accord with his own 
 notions of what he desired, he had flung 
 from him so carelessly, the priceless gem of 
 his child s love. How that child could love, 
 he had seen ; and till now the thought that 
 the love was not for him but another, had 
 chafed and angered him. Now he was 
 humbled by it. Who could say but that 
 had he tried, he might have turned at least 
 some streamlet of those freshening waters 
 into his own parched and rugged field ? 
 
 There was an old woman once to whom 
 certain kind friends of mine used to send 
 
290 TIM CHAP. 
 
 her dinner. She was quite past work, and 
 absolutely destitute, except for what was 
 bestowed upon her in charity, but if the 
 victuals were not to her taste she would 
 send them back. Was it that by so doing 
 she got better ones ? On the contrary, the 
 alternative was to fast, and indeed to risk 
 offending the givers, and so cutting herself 
 off from the alms for ever. The proverb 
 that half a loaf is better than no bread, is 
 one to which we all give assent with our 
 lips, but few people, if any, are found will 
 ing to make it a rule of conduct. They will 
 have a whole loaf, new and soft, of the finest 
 wheaten flour, and baked just as they choose, 
 or they will eat no bread, though they starve 
 for it. These are perhaps somewhat homely 
 illustrations for the state of mind of a father 
 half wild with grief and self-reproach over a 
 dying son. For something told him, as I 
 have said, that the gift which he had so 
 recklessly cast aside, would never be his now. 
 His boy would die, and would never know 
 
xii TIM 291 
 
 how much he really loved him. If he could 
 only win him back to life, only make him 
 think a little more kindly of his father, he 
 felt that nothing else mattered. 
 
 He went and fetched Tim home himself, 
 and when he saw how ill and fragile the lad 
 looked, his heart died within him ; he longed 
 to fall on his knees by him and tell him how 
 he loved him, and implore him not to leave 
 him. But the doctor had cautioned him to 
 betray no emotion, and to conceal as far as 
 possible any shock he might experience at 
 his son s appearance. 
 
 At first for a few days Tim suffered from 
 a raging pain in the head ; he could bear no 
 light and no sound, and they feared that 
 he would have brain fever. Then suddenly 
 the pain left him, but left him so exhausted 
 that he hardly seemed alive. Still, weak as 
 he was, the doctor thought he had better 
 be taken away from school, and his father 
 carried him back to the old manor-house 
 where his childhood had past. As though 
 
292 TIM CHAP. 
 
 to mock William Ebbesley s grief by violent 
 contrast to the pale and feeble Tim, it was 
 the time of year when the earth is most 
 instinct with buoyant and vibrating life, 
 July, when the last crowning touch has been 
 put to the long work of spring, while no 
 foreshadowing of the yet distant autumn has 
 fallen on any leaf. The lilies were in their 
 tallest, whitest majesty, the roses blushed 
 and glowed in the old garden, where, a few 
 weeks before, Tim had hidden himself from 
 the voice of his friend. 
 
 I never see such a year, sir, said the 
 gardener ; everything is a-doing better than 
 I ve ever known it since I ve lived here. 
 
 Yes. Everything. Everything but that 
 one blossom for which he would gladly have 
 bartered all the wealth of sunny fruit and 
 folded petals, and on which a frosty hand 
 had been laid in the midst of all the warmth 
 of summer. For Mrs. Quitchett s old friend 
 the doctor, who had known Tim from a baby, 
 did not dare conceal from the poor father his 
 
xii TIM 293 
 
 belief that the lad would die. How soon he 
 could not say ; he might even be wrong, and 
 Tim might take a turn and begin to gain 
 strength ; but he was afraid to hope it. The 
 little stock of life in him seemed to be ebbing 
 away. He might go on for a year, or it 
 might be much sooner; it was impossible 
 to say. 
 
 And could nothing be done ? asked the 
 father. Were there no new remedies he 
 could try, no learned men to consult, no 
 places or climates in which the flickering 
 young life would have a better chance to 
 reassert itself ? 
 
 The old doctor s voice trembled as he 
 answered. He was almost as fond of the 
 child himself, and he grasped Mr. Ebbesley s 
 hand and spoke very gently. I should 
 only be deceiving you if I said " yes " ; of 
 course consult any one you will, if it will be 
 any comfort to you ; but they will only say 
 the same thing. There is no organic disease ; 
 he is dying of sheer weakness, and to drag 
 
294 TIM CHAP. 
 
 him about the world will only use up the 
 little stock of strength he has left. If, as 
 God grant, he takes a turn and lives till the 
 winter, then I don t say but it would be well 
 to try a better climate. But at present he is 
 as well off here as anywhere. 
 
 So, then, there was no help for it ; nothing 
 to do but to watch his child fade slowly from 
 him, to see him grow whiter, thinner, more 
 easily tired day by day. 
 
 The Darleys were all away, and Violet 
 was with them. The Court was shut up, 
 and Tim might have wandered up there 
 without any fear of meeting Carol. But he 
 found, when he tried it, that even this walk, 
 short as it was, was beyond his powers, and 
 this, coming upon him with a vague surprise, 
 was the first intimation to him of how ill he 
 really was. He thought of the old childish 
 days when he had skimmed across the fields 
 for miles round his home, and the Court 
 woods had been but the beginning of his 
 rambles. 
 
xii TIM 295 
 
 Mrs. Quitchett thought of those days 
 too, and wept when she compared the child, 
 small and frail, it is true, but lithe and active 
 as a young squirrel, with the figure of the 
 slim lad of sixteen that moved so slowly 
 round the garden paths. ( Who would ha 
 thought, who would ha thought that see d 
 us two, sobbed the poor old woman, that 
 he was the one the Lord would take first to 
 Himself! But to Tim she showed a smiling 
 front, watching every sign, indefatigable in 
 her zeal to miss no attention that might do 
 good, and never admitting for a moment that 
 he was not getting better. 
 
 As the Ethiopian cannot change his skin, 
 so was it not given to William Ebbesley in 
 an instant to alter his whole nature ; such 
 changes do not happen in real life ; and even 
 now he caught himself sometimes speaking 
 half-sharply to Tim, when the struggle within 
 him was almost more than he could bear. 
 But the boy did not feel afraid of him any 
 longer ; it seemed as though he had some 
 
296 TIM CHAP. 
 
 intuition of all that his father was suffering 
 and had suffered on his account ; he was 
 beginning to understand him, and in the 
 place of his old fear there welled up in his 
 heart an infinite pity. 
 
 One day, when Mr. Ebbesley had brought 
 out cushions with which to make the garden 
 seat easy and soft for him, and was turning 
 to go, as he usually did after shyly proffer 
 ing some such little act of tenderness, 
 Tim laid one of his thin white hands on 
 his, saying, You are very good to me, 
 father. 
 
 Oh ! my boy, my little son/ burst out the 
 poor man, I have been a very hard father 
 to you. I see it all now ; I thought, I meant 
 to do what was right, but I have been very 
 cruel. Oh ! if I could only atone ! but you 
 will never forgive me, never love me 
 now. 
 
 The cry that had been stifling him was 
 uttered at last, the proud man had humbled 
 himself, the thin partition that for eight years 
 
xii TIM 297 
 
 had kept these two apart had crumbled and 
 let them find one another. 
 
 Tim for all answer put up his other arm 
 and drew his father s head down upon his 
 breast, and so for a little space they sat quite 
 silent. After a time Tim said very simply, 
 Do you remember the talk we had about 
 my grandmother ? You said all her family 
 died young ; I think / shall die this summer. 
 
 His father could not speak : he could not 
 contradict him, he could only fold him more 
 closely in his arms ; and it was Tim who 
 spoke again. 
 
 You mustn t fret for me, father ; I am 
 surprised myself to find how little I mind 
 the thought ; I think I am rather glad. But 
 there is something I have wanted to say. I 
 am afraid I have not been all you wished ; 
 I have disappointed and vexed you. Do 
 
 you forgive me ? 
 
 < 
 
 Still his father could not trust himself to 
 answer save by that convulsive hold ; the 
 words meant to ask pardon set themselves 
 
298 TIM CHAP, xii 
 
 in array against him like accusing angels. 
 What words could he find strong enough to 
 express all he was feeling ? But Tim smiled 
 and was satisfied. He seemed as though he 
 understood. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 . . . Even the weariest river 
 Winds, somewhere, safe to sea. 
 
 SWINBURNE S Garden of Proserpine. 
 
 As the weeks succeeded each other, one 
 thought was ever present in the mind of Tim. 
 Shall I see him again before I die? It 
 can do him no harm now. I shall so soon 
 be out of the way ; I cannot come between 
 him and his love any more. 
 
 As his poor hands, whose hold on this 
 world was loosening day by day, grew 
 thinner and more transparent, his face paler, 
 his step slower upon the gravel, his heart 
 yearned ever with a patient longing for just 
 one more sight of the friend to whom his 
 whole life had been true. But he had given 
 
300 TIM CHAP. 
 
 the crowning proof of his devotion renun 
 ciation. The arms that should have been 
 upholding him in his last sore struggle, he 
 had himself unclasped ; the dear lips and 
 eyes that should even now be smiling on his 
 sick-bed, his own free act had sent far away 
 from him. 
 
 He will never know that I was true to 
 him. I shall never see him again. Through 
 all the long empty hours this one cry repeats 
 itself in his soul. All the little life that is left 
 to him seems concentrated in this one intense 
 longing for Carol. To see his face, to hear 
 his loved voice again, if only for a moment ; to 
 tell him the truth at last ; only once, just once, 
 before he died. And yet even now he could 
 not put his thought into words, could not 
 bring himself to make this last request to his 
 father. 
 
 As for Mr. Ebbesley, he too was troubled 
 by one thought which he could not find 
 the courage to speak. He was always 
 with Tim now. It was his arm which sup- 
 
xni TIM 301 
 
 ported the boy into the garden where he 
 loved to sit, and back to the house ; no 
 tending could have been more loving, more 
 sympathetic. But, as I have said, no one 
 changes his whole nature at a leap, even in 
 the great crises of life; and there was yet 
 one struggle to be made with his pride 
 before perfect ease and confidence could 
 exist between them. 
 
 . Hour after hour would Tim lie silent and 
 uncomplaining, yearning for Carol, but dread 
 ing to endanger the new-found treasure of 
 his father s love ; dreading to see the old 
 cloud settle on the face that he was watching, 
 the hard look grow round the mouth, as it 
 was wont to do when in the old days he 
 had been obliged to mention his friend s 
 name. And William Ebbesley would sit 
 beside him all the while, divining his 
 thoughts, knowing there was one supreme 
 proof of his affection to be given to his son, 
 one sacrifice that he could make for him, one 
 happiness that he could give him, and long- 
 
302 TIM CHAP. 
 
 ing to make the effort, yet ever just kept 
 from it by some strange inexplicable shyness 
 and reserve. For a long time he hoped that 
 Tim would break the silence, would be the 
 first to approach the subject ; but at last he 
 saw that that was not to be hoped, and he 
 was half angry with himself for the cowardice 
 that made him wish to shift this burthen to 
 those poor weak shoulders. No. It was 
 clearly for him to take the first step ; had he 
 not ardently desired some way of showing 
 his devotion to his son, and when he had it, 
 was it possible that he should hesitate ? 
 
 So one evening when they had been 
 watching the sunset, which had left a sham 
 glow on Tim s white cheeks, William 
 Ebbesley, holding his son s hand, and with 
 face half- turned away, said suddenly, Tim, 
 dear, you have not everything you want ; 
 there is one thing I have not done for you. 
 
 There was a real glow in Tim s cheeks 
 now ; the sunset light had faded, but in its 
 place an inward radiance, brighter but almost 
 
xin TIM 303 
 
 as transient, had spread over the delicate 
 face. Feeling his grasp tighten, his father 
 stole a look at him, and even then a pang 
 shot through him at the thought of the love 
 that had called forth this happy flush at the 
 bare chance of a meeting, the love that was 
 not for him, that might perhaps have been his. 
 
 Oh, father ! you mean Tim began 
 
 tremulously, and paused ; he dared hardly 
 complete the sentence even in his own 
 mind. 
 
 William Ebbesley choked down the last 
 touch of the old jealousy. I will write 
 to-night, he said quietly, answering the 
 other s unspoken thought. 
 
 But a new trouble had fallen on Tim. 
 Will he come? he said half to himself; 
 and then, Oh yes. If I know him for the 
 kind, generous Carol I think him, he will 
 surely come. 
 
 Then he asked, * Father, may / write ? 
 
 You know, dear boy, the doctor has 
 forbidden you to write a word. 
 
304 TIM CHAP. 
 
 Yes, I know ; but this will do me good. 
 I shall not be easy unless I may. 
 
 Won t it do if you dictate to me ? 
 
 No. I must write myself; nothing else 
 will do. 1 
 
 Well, if you are sure it will not tire you. 
 And he went and brought the writing things. 
 
 Tim took them eagerly, and was beginning 
 to write, when he stopped suddenly and 
 looked up. Father, forgive me ; I am 
 selfish. You are sorry at this. 
 
 It was so unexpected, the little impulse 
 of unselfish consideration, that at its contact 
 the last drop of bitterness fell from the 
 father s heart, and in his eyes for the first 
 time for more years than he could remember 
 shone the blessed healing tears to which he 
 had so long been a stranger. 
 
 1 No, no, my darling, he faltered hastily ; 
 
 whatever makes you happy I then 
 
 his voice broke, and he could not finish. 
 
 1 God bless you, dear dear father, I am 
 quite happy now. 
 
xin TIM 305 
 
 And this was Tim s letter : I am very 
 ill, Carol dying, I think. Dear Carol, if I 
 have seemed ungrateful, can you and will 
 you forgive me ? I could explain to you if 
 I had you here, but I can t write. Come 
 to me, Carol dear. Your loving TIM. 
 
 Father. 
 
 Yes, dear. 
 
 Do you want to see what I have 
 written ? 
 
 No, my boy, no. 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley took the letter and sealed 
 it ; then he sent it to the address that he 
 had already got from the servants at the 
 Court. 
 
 Whether it was the reaction from the 
 tense longing in which he had been living, 
 or merely that as his strength decreased the 
 change in him grew more apparent, Tim 
 seemed to get worse much more quickly 
 after his letter had gone. 
 
 The doctor came and went, shaking his 
 head sadly, and saying, It is quicker than 
 
 x 
 
306 TIM CHAP. 
 
 I thought, and despair settled clown upon 
 the two watchers by the sick boy. 
 
 But still Tim waited day by day for the 
 answer that was to bring peace to his soul. 
 Life was slipping away too fast. Oh ! 
 come, Carol, he would whisper, or it may 
 be too late ; she will surely spare you just 
 for a little. 
 
 Tim had been at home nearly a month 
 now ; the blazing July weather had ended in 
 a rather wet August. All around, the harvest 
 lay beaten down by the rain ; not the only 
 grain stricken ere it had come to maturity. 
 One evening, after a more than usually 
 dreary day, the clouds had broken, giving 
 place to a gorgeous sunset. Tim had been 
 placed on a sofa in the open window, from 
 which he could watch the purple and crimson 
 and gold, and the delicate green and lilac 
 tints of the western sky ; the same sofa on 
 which he had lain eight years before, ponder 
 ing on his angel, and had seen Carol come 
 in with his offering of grapes. 
 
xin TIM 30? 
 
 Father. 
 
 Yes, my boy. He knew too well what 
 question was coming. 
 
 Has the postman been ? 
 
 Yes, dear. 
 
 Alas! no letter. Tim did not even ask, 
 knowing that if there were one, it would be 
 given to him at once. He closed his eyes 
 and lay quite still. His father looked wearily 
 out of the window ; he knew what was pass 
 ing in the lad s mind, and had come to desire 
 the letter almost as much as the sick boy 
 himself. 
 
 The air was cool and fresh. The garden 
 was yielding a thousand scents to the soft 
 touch of the summer rain. The setting sun 
 lit little coloured lamps in the large drops 
 that hung from every leaf of the grateful 
 trees and shrubs ; the birds kept up a drowsy 
 twittering. A few knowing old blackbirds 
 and thrushes, well aware that the moisture 
 brings out the fine fat worms, were hopping 
 about on the grass-plot in search of their 
 
308 TIM CHAP. 
 
 supper. All sounds were strangely distinct 
 that evening. 
 
 Hark ! what was that ? surely a step on 
 the wet gravel ; not old Richard the 
 gardener s step. No, it was a young foot 
 that struck the ground lightly, and scrunched 
 stoutly along the little approach to the house. 
 Tim s ears had caught the sound, and he 
 started up from his pillows, his cheeks 
 aflame, his eyes bright and eager, while 
 his heart beat loud and fast. He would 
 know that dear step among a thousand. 
 
 He had come at last, at last ! 
 
 Mr. Ebbesley stole noiselessly away, with 
 a heavy dull ache in his heart, and I am afraid 
 neither of the friends noticed his absence. 
 In the same room, in the same place, in the 
 same attitudes in which they had met as 
 children, they had come together again. 
 
 Oh, Carol ! are you come to me ? 
 
 Oh, my poor dear Tim ! 
 
 Carol could say no more. He was 
 shocked at the havoc these few short weeks 
 
xiii TIM 309 
 
 had wrought. A sacred silence rested be 
 tween them for a few minutes. Enough for 
 Tim that he was there ; no need of words. 
 Carol was the first to speak ; his voice was 
 hushed and full of awe. 
 
 I was not with my family when your 
 letter came, dear Tim, and they did not 
 know where to forward it to me, as I was 
 moving about ; so I never got it for nearly 
 ten days, or I should have been here long 
 ago. 
 
 Oh, Carol ! how good of you to come. 
 I half thought sometimes forgive me for 
 doubting you but I thought you might not 
 come at all after after the way I treated 
 you. 
 
 Don t let s talk of that now, Tim ; it s 
 past and gone. I don t want you to explain ; 
 I am content not to understand. I remem 
 ber only the dear good friend of the old 
 days, who is come back to me. 
 
 But I must talk of it, please, Carol ; I 
 must tell you how it was. It can do no harm 
 
310 TIM CHAP. 
 
 now, and I can t leave you thinking hardly 
 of me, for you know I have not very long to 
 live ; something tells me you are come only 
 just in time. 
 
 Oh ! dear dear boy, for God s sake, 
 don t talk like that, said Carol, with a great 
 lump rising in his throat. You are not 
 going to to He felt all the repug 
 nance of the young and string to face the 
 thought, or say the word. 
 
 To die. Tim finished the sentence for 
 him quite simply. Yes, I think so. 
 
 No, no ; you will get well and strong. 
 You must, for all our sakes. 
 
 Tim smiled and shook his head ; it did 
 not seem to him worth while to argue the 
 point ; that was not what he wanted to say. 
 
 Never mind, he said gently, in a way 
 that put the subject aside as unimportant. 
 If I had lived I could not have had you with 
 me now. I could never have told you what 
 I am going to tell you. Carol, will you 
 believe me when I say that I never wavered 
 
xin TIM 311 
 
 for an instant in my love for you ; never 
 loved you better than when I seemed to give 
 you up ? Tim was getting excited, and 
 Carol, fearing it would be bad for him, tried 
 in vain to stop him. Oh, Carol ! it was for 
 your sake I did it ; will you believe me when 
 I tell you all this ? 
 
 For my sake, dear old boy ? I don t 
 understand you. He thought his friend s 
 mind was wandering, but he was very patient 
 and tender with him, humouring him, as one 
 would a sick child. 
 
 She said I heard her say that I came 
 between you. You know, Carol, it was 
 when you were so unhappy ; and then I saw 
 that I was the cause of it all ; and so I de 
 termined not to come between you any more ; 
 and, indeed, indeed, dear Carol, I would have 
 held my tongue for ever, only there is no 
 more need now. I could not die and leave 
 you thinking ill of me. I suppose I ought 
 to have, but I couldn t do it. 
 
 A new light was breaking in upon Carol. 
 
312 TIM CHAP. 
 
 And did you do all this for me ? he asked 
 wonderingly. Why, Tim, I knew you liked 
 me absurdly, much more than I deserved, 
 but I never dreamt you cared as much for 
 me as that. 
 
 And you understand now, Carol, don t 
 you, why I didn t answer your dear letter ? 
 See, I have it here ; it never leaves me. 
 
 I was a beast and a fool to doubt you, 
 Tim. How could I ever have done it ? but 
 it did seem as though you must be bored 
 with me and my affairs. And all the time 
 you were doing this for me ! 
 
 Carol, did she mind your coming to 
 me ? Tell me I have not made fresh mis 
 chief between you ? 
 
 1 She was very unhappy when I told her 
 how ill you were, and she said, " Oh ! go at 
 once to him ; I can guess what it would be 
 to be ill and wanting you ; and he has been 
 waiting so long already." And then she 
 cried, and said a great deal I did not under 
 stand at the time about having been jealous 
 
xni TIM 313 
 
 of my friendship for you, and having had 
 hard thoughts of you sometimes, and that 
 she was so ashamed of herself now that you 
 were so ill. I was to be sure and tell you, 
 and to ask if you would ever forgive her. 5 
 
 1 There is nothing to forgive, Tim 
 answered indifferently. 
 
 But how did you guess, Carol continued, 
 how could you imagine that she felt any 
 thing of the sort ? 
 
 Then Tim told him all that he had over 
 heard Violet say, only softening it off, and 
 generalising a little with fine tact. And then, 
 the floodgates once open, he went on with 
 sudden eloquence, the more touching from its 
 sheer simplicity, and told all the long story 
 of his constant love, but with as little mention 
 as possible of his father throughout, and of 
 the part he had played in it. And this short 
 hour, which some may think was a sad one, 
 was just the happiest of Tim s whole life. 
 
 Carol listened in wonder and awe, not 
 unmingled with compunction, as the descrip- 
 
3 H TIM CHAP. 
 
 tion of the feeling he had so unconsciously 
 excited unrolled itself before him. He forgot 
 himself, Violet, his love for her, everything 
 for the moment in contemplation of this 
 devotion, so single-hearted, so lofty, so pure 
 and so unselfish, which had been his, all 
 his, and at which he had been so far from 
 guessing. 
 
 I had no idea of anything of the kind, 
 he said, more to himself than to Tim. I 
 knew the old people were awfully fond of 
 me, God bless them ; and I understand what 
 I feel for Violet. But this beats me; I ve 
 always been what s called popular, I suppose. 
 I never thought much about it, but fellows 
 have always been jolly to me, and seemed to 
 like me. Oh ! my dear friend, what have I 
 ever done that you should care about me like 
 this ? 
 
 Tim s face lit up exultingly. " Passing the 
 love of women," he said ; that was it, Carol, 
 wasn t it? "Thy love to me was wonder 
 ful, passing the love of women." Do you 
 
xin TIM 315 
 
 remember the day when they read it in the 
 lesson in chapel at Eton ? 
 
 Carol had forgotten, but Tim s words 
 brought back the scene with strange distinct 
 ness : the big chapel in its stillness, the 
 silence of a great crowd, and of a crowd 
 unused to be still, the little flecks of light 
 from the air - holes in the roof, the ugly 
 picture of the finding of Moses in the window 
 opposite his seat, the droning voice of the 
 reader, and the flash of the little face that 
 turned up to his, with the expression that 
 had puzzled him at the time. 
 
 ( Yes, I remember, he answered. 
 
 I have thought of it so often since. It 
 would be grand for one s friend to be able 
 to say that of one, after one was dead. Put 
 your strong arms round me, Carol, and raise 
 me a little ; I can talk better so. 
 
 Carol lifted the poor thin body as easily 
 as a baby, and propped it up on the 
 cushions. 
 
 Thank you, that is better. Ah! don t take 
 
316 TIM CHAP. 
 
 your arms away ; let me feel them round me 
 for a little. Carol, when I am buried, I want 
 those words to be put on the stone. My 
 father will let it be so, I know, if I wish it ; 
 I shall ask him the last thing. But you must 
 remind him. 
 
 Oh ! Tim, I can t bear to hear you talk 
 so. You mustn t die ; we all want you so 
 much. 
 
 Don t cry, Carol ; you will do as I wish, 
 won t you ? And, Carol, tell her how I tried 
 to make things happy for her and you ; I 
 want her to think kindly of me too. 
 
 He laid his head on his friend s breast 
 and closed his eyes ; the effort of talking so 
 much had tired him. Carol thought he was 
 asleep, and dared not move for fear of waking 
 him ; but by and by he said, Do you 
 remember, Carol ? I lay on this sofa when 
 you first came to see me after the accident. 
 I had been dreaming of you without knowing 
 it ; I thought you were an angel. And then 
 1 turned and saw you standing there in the 
 
xiii TIM 317 
 
 doorway. You kissed me that day, Carol. 
 Will you kiss me now ? 
 
 Carol bowed his head without a word 
 and kissed him. And thus their friendship 
 was sealed at either end. 
 
 Father, said Tim, after a little, are 
 you there ? 
 
 Yes, my boy. He had come in, and 
 was standing a little apart in the deepening 
 twilight, humbly watching the friends. How 
 unlike the proud man who had so bitterly 
 resented his little son s preferring another to 
 himself! 
 
 Will you come here, father ? I cannot 
 see you there. He came round the sofa, 
 and Tim held out his hand to him. You 
 and Carol must love one another, he said, 
 looking from one to the other, for my sake. 
 Silently the two men clasped hands over the 
 couch. 
 
 You must leave us now, Carol dear, 
 Tim went on ; I must be alone with my 
 father. 
 
318 TIM CHAP, xni 
 
 Carol longed to say something, but 
 could not ; he went out without a word. Tim 
 watched him walk away with eyes that knew 
 they were taking their last look. Then a 
 satisfied smile lit up his face as he turned it 
 to his father. 
 
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 1890. Vol. I. 33.?. 6d. net. 
 
 LUBBOCK (Sir John). THE ORIGIN AND 
 METAMORPHOSES OF INSECTS. Illustrated. 
 Cr. Svo. y. 64. 
 
 SCUDDER (S. H.). FOSSIL INSECTS OF 
 NORTH AMERICA. Map and Plates. s 
 vols. 410. gas. net. 
 
 Ornithology. 
 
 COUES (Elliott). KEY TO NORTH AMERICAN 
 BIRDS. Illustrated. Svo. il. 2s. 
 
 HANDBOOK OK FIELD AND GENERAL OR 
 NITHOLOGY. Illustrated. Svo. IDS. net. 
 
 FOWLER(W. W.). (Ste NATURAL HISTORY.) 
 WHITE (Gilbert). (Sec NATURAL HISTORY.) 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ABBEY (E. A.) . . -37 
 ABBOT (F. E.) ... 33 
 
 ATTWELL (H.) . 
 AUSTIN (Alfred) 
 
 PAGE 
 
 . 20 
 
 BERNARD (J. H.) . 
 BERNARD (M.) . . . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 25 
 
 12 
 
 ABBOTT (Rev. E.) 3, 13,30,3! 
 Aci.AND(Sir H. W.). 
 
 33 
 
 22 
 
 AuTKNKiKTH (Georg) 
 
 AWDRY (F.) 
 
 7 
 
 38 
 
 BKRNKRS (J.) 
 BESANT (W.) . 
 
 . II 
 
 4 
 
 ADAMS (Sir F. O.) . 
 
 28 
 
 BACON (Francis) 
 
 19, 20 
 
 BETHUNE-BAKER (J. F.) 
 
 33 
 
 ADAMS (Herbert B.). 
 ADDISON . 4, 
 
 28 
 2O 
 
 P,AiNKs(Rev. E.) . . 33 
 BAKER (Sir S.W.) 28,30,37,38 
 
 BETTANY (G. T.) 
 BICKERTON (T. H.) . 
 
 . 6 
 
 22 
 
 AGASSIZ (L.) 
 
 3 
 
 BALCH (Elizabeth) . 
 
 12 
 
 BlGELOW(M. M.) . 
 
 12 
 
 AiNGER(Rev. A.) .4,20, 
 
 33 
 
 BALDWIN (Prof. J. M.) 
 
 . 26 
 
 BlKELAS (D.) . 
 
 17 
 
 AlNSLIE(A. D.). 
 
 
 BALFOUR (Rt. Hon. A. 
 
 J.) ^ 
 
 BINNIE (Rev. W.) . 
 
 33 
 
 AIRY (Sir G. B.) . 2, 
 
 27 ! BALFOUR (F. M.) . 
 
 5,6 
 
 BIRKS (T. R.) . 6, 25, 
 
 3, 33 
 
 AITKEN (Mary C.) . 
 
 20 
 
 BALFOUR (J. B.) 
 
 6 
 
 BJORNSON (B.) . 
 
 17 
 
 AITKEN (Sir W.) 
 
 2 7 
 
 BALL (V.) . 
 
 ^3 
 
 BLACK (W.) . 
 
 4, 17 
 
 ALBF.MARLF.(Earlof) 
 
 3 
 
 BALL (W. Platt) 
 
 . 6 
 
 BLACKHUKNE (E ) . 
 
 3 
 
 ALDRICH (T. B.) 
 
 
 BALL (W. W. R.) . 
 
 22 
 
 BI.ACKIR (J.S.) . 9, 
 
 14, 19 
 
 ALEXANDER (C. F.) . 
 
 20 
 
 BALI.ANCE (C. A.) . 
 
 22 
 
 BLAKE (T.F.) . 
 
 2 
 
 ALEXANDER (T.) 
 
 8 
 
 BARKER (Lady) 
 
 2, 8, 37 
 
 BLAKE(W.) . 
 
 3 
 
 ALEXANDER (BUhop) 
 ALLBUTT (T. C.) 
 
 33 
 -J-J 
 
 BARNARD (C.) . 
 BARNES (W.) . 
 
 27 
 
 3 
 
 BLAKISTON (J. R.) . 
 BLANFORD(H. F.) . 
 
 . 8 
 9- 27 
 
 ALLEN (G.) 
 
 6 
 
 BARRY (Bishop). 
 
 33 
 
 BLANFORD(W. T.) . 
 
 9, 24 
 
 Al.LINGHAM (W.) 
 
 20 
 
 BARTHOLOMEW (J. G.) 
 
 
 Bl.OMFIELD (R.) 
 
 9 
 
 AMIEL(H.F.) . 
 
 a 
 
 BARTLETT(J.). 
 
 7 
 
 BLYTH (A. W.) . 
 
 ii 
 
 ANDERSON (A.). 
 
 14 
 
 BARWELL(R.) . 
 
 22 
 
 BOHM-BAWEKK (Prof.) 
 
 . 28 
 
 ANDERSON (Dr. McCall) . 
 
 22 
 
 BASTABLE (Prof. C. F.) 
 
 . 28 
 
 BOISSEVAIN (G. M.) . 
 
 . 28 
 
 ANDREWS (Dr. Thomas) . 
 
 26 
 
 BASTIAN(H. C.) 
 
 6, 22 
 
 BOLDRF.WOOD (Rolf). 
 
 J 7 
 
 API-LETON (T. G.) . 
 
 37 
 
 BATESON (W.) . 
 
 . 6 
 
 BONAR (J.) 
 
 . -28 
 
 ARCHER-HIND (R. D.) 
 
 36 
 
 BATH (Marquis of) . 
 
 . 28 
 
 BOND (Rev. J.). 
 
 3 1 
 
 ARNOLD, M. 8,14,19,20,21, 
 
 3 
 
 BATHER (Archdeacon) 
 
 33 
 
 BOOLE (G.) . . . 
 
 . 26 
 
 ARNOLD (Dr. T.) 
 
 9 
 
 BAXTER (L.) . 
 
 3 
 
 BOUGHTON (G. H.) . 
 
 37 
 
 ARNOLD (W.T.) 
 
 9 
 
 BEESLY(MrS-) . 
 
 9 
 
 BOUTMY (E.) . 
 
 12 
 
 ASHLEY (W. JO- 
 ATKINSON (J. B.) 
 ATKINSON (Rev. J. C.) i, 
 
 3 BENHAM (Rev. W.) . 5 
 2 BENSON (Archbishop) 
 38 1 BERLIOZ (H.) 
 
 > 20, 32 
 
 S 2 , 33 
 
 3 
 
 BOWEN(H.C.). 
 
 BOWER (F. O.) . 
 BRIDGES (J. A.). 
 
 25 
 
 . 6 
 
INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 BRIGHT (H. A.). . - 9 
 
 CLARKE (C. B.). . 9, 28 
 
 DlLLWYN (E. A.) . . 17 
 
 BRIGHT (John) . . 28, 29 
 
 CLAUSIUS (R.) . . . 27 
 
 DOBSON (A.) . .4 
 
 BRIMLEY(G-) . . -19 
 BRODiE(Sir B.C.) . . 7 
 
 CLIFFORD (Ed.) . . 3 
 CLIFFORD (\\~. K.) . IQ, 26 
 
 DONALDSON (J.) . . 33 
 
 DONISTHOKPE (W.) . . 29 
 
 BRODRIBB (W. J.) . 13, 37 
 
 CLIFFORD (Mrs. W. K.) ." 38 
 
 DOWDEN (E.) . . 4, 13, 15 
 
 BROOKE (Sir J.) . . 3 
 
 CLOUGH (A. H.) . 14, 19 
 
 DOYLE (Sir F. H.) . . 14 
 
 BROOKE (S. A.) .13, 14, 21 
 
 COUUEX (R.) . . -29 
 
 DOYLE (J. A.) . . .10 
 
 BROOKS (Bishop) . . 33 
 BROWN (A. C.) . . . 26 
 
 COHEN (J. B.) ... 7 
 
 COLENSO (J. W.) . . 3* 
 
 DRAKE (B.) . .36 
 DRUMMOND (Prof. J.) . 34 
 
 BROWN (J. A.) . . . i 
 
 COLERIDGE (S. T.) . . 14 
 
 DRYDEN . . . .20 
 
 BROWN (Dr. James) . . 4 
 
 COLLIER (Hon. John) . 2 
 
 Du CANE (E. F.) . . 29 
 
 BROWN (T. E.) . . .14 
 
 COLLINS (J. Churton) . 19 
 
 DuFF(Sir M.E.Grant) 20,29,37 
 
 BROWNE (J. H. B.) . . n 
 
 COLQUHOUN (F. S.) . . 14 
 
 DUNSMUIR (A.). . . 17 
 
 BROWNE (Sir T.) . . 20 
 
 COLVIN (Sidney) . 4, 20 
 
 DUNTZER(H-). . -4,5 
 
 BROWNE (W. R.) . . 27 
 
 COMBE (G.) ... 8 
 
 Dui-RE(A.) ... 7 
 
 BRUNTON(Dr.T.Lauder) 22, 33 
 
 CONGREVE (Rev. J.) . . 33 
 
 DYER(L.). . . . i 
 
 BRYCE (James) . . 9, 28, 37 
 
 CONWAY (Hugh) . . 17 
 
 EADIE (J.). . . 4, 3> 3 1 
 
 BUCHHEIM (C. A.) . . 20 
 
 COOK (E. T.) . . .2 
 
 EASTLAKE (Lady) . . 3 2 
 
 BUCKLAND (A.). . . 5 
 
 BUCKLEY (A. B.) . .9 
 
 COOKE (C. Kinloch) . . 24 
 COOKE (J. P.) . . 7, 34 
 
 EBERS(G.) . . J 7 
 EDGEWORTH (Prof. F. Y.). 28 
 
 BuCKNILL(Dr. J.C.) . 22 
 
 CORBETT (J.) . . 4, 17, 38 
 
 EDMUNDS (Dr. W.) . . 22 
 
 BUCKTON (G. B.) . . 40 
 
 CORFIELD (W. H.) . . II 
 
 ED\VAKD.s-Moss(Sir J. E.) 30 
 
 BUNYAN . . .4, 19, 20 
 
 CORRY (T. H.) . . .6 
 
 EIMER (G. H. T.) . .6 
 
 BURGON(J.W.) . . I 4 
 BUKKE (E.) . . 28 
 
 COTTERILLQ.H.) . . 8 
 
 COTTON (Bishop) . . 34 
 
 ELDERTON (W. A.) . . 9 
 EI.LERTON (Rev. J.). . 34 
 
 BURN (R.). ... i 
 
 COTTON (C.) . . .12 
 
 ELLIOT (Hon. A.) . . 29 
 
 BURNETT (F. Hodgson) . 17 
 
 COTTON (J.S.) . . . 29 
 
 ELLIS (T.). ... 2 
 
 BURNS . .14, 20 
 
 COUES (E.) . . .40 
 
 EMERSON (R. W.) . 4, 20 
 
 BUKY(J. B.) ... 9 
 
 CouKi _.OTE (W. J.) . . 4 
 
 EVANS (S.) ... 14 
 
 BuTCHER(Prof. S. H.) 13,19,36 
 
 COWELL (G.) . . -23 
 
 EVERETT (J.D.) . . 26 
 
 BUTLER (A. J.). . . 37 
 
 COWI ER . . . .20 
 
 FALCONER (Lanoe) . . 17 
 
 BUTLER (Rev. G.) . . 33 
 
 Cox (G. V.) ... 9 
 
 FARRAR (Archdeacon) 5,30,34 
 
 BUTLER (Samuel) . . 14 
 
 CRAiK(Mrs.)i4, 17, 19,20, 37, 38 
 
 FARRER(SirT. H.) . . 29 
 
 BUTLER (W. Archer) . 33 
 
 CRAIK (H.) . . 8, 29 
 
 FAULKNER (F.). . . 7 
 
 BUTLER (Sir W. F.) . . 4 
 
 CRANE (Lucy) . 2 > 39 
 
 FAWCETT (Prof. H.) . 28, 29 
 
 BYRON . . . .20 
 
 CRANE (Walter). 12, 14, 39 
 
 FAWCETT (M. G.) . 5, 8 
 
 CAIRNES (J. E.) , . 29 
 
 CRAVEN (Mrs. D.) . .8 
 
 FAY (Amy) ... 4 
 
 CALDECOTT (R.) .12, 38, 39 
 
 CRAWFORD (F. M.) . . 17 
 
 FEARNLEY(\V.) . . 7 
 
 CALDERWOOD (Prof. H.) 
 
 CREIGHTON (Bishop M.) 4, 10 
 
 FEARON (D. R.) . .8 
 
 8, 25, 26, 33 
 
 Cl<ICHTON-BROWNE(SirJ.) 8 
 
 FERREL(\V.) ... 7 
 
 CALVERT (Rev. A.) . . 31 
 
 CROSS (J. A.) . . -30 
 
 FERRERS (N. M.) . . 7 
 
 CAMERON (V. L.) . . 37 
 
 CROSSLEY (E.) ... 2 
 
 FESSENDEN (C.) . . 26 
 
 CAMPBELL (J. F.) . . 37 
 
 CROSSLEY (H.) . . .37 
 
 FiNCK(H. T.) ... i 
 
 CAMPBELL (Dr. I. M.) . 33 
 
 GUMMING (L.) . . .26 
 
 FISHER (Rev. O.) . 26, 27 
 
 CAMPBELL (Prof. Lewis) 5,13 
 
 CUNNINGHAM (C.) . . 28 
 
 FiSKE(J.). 6, 9, 25, 29, 34 
 
 CAPES (W.W.). . . 13 
 
 CUNNINGHAM (Sir H. S.) . 17 
 
 FisoN(L.). ... i 
 
 CARLES (W. R.) . . 37 
 
 CUNNINGHAM (Rev. J.) . 31 
 
 FITCH (J. G.) ... 8 
 
 CARLYLE (T.) ... 3 
 
 CuNNiNGHAM(Rev.W)3i,33,34 
 
 FITZ GERALD (Caroline) . 14 
 
 CARMARTHEN (Lady) . 17 
 
 CUNYNGHAME (Sir A. T.) . 23 
 
 FITZGERALD (Edward) 14, 20 
 
 CARNARVON (Earl of) . 36 
 
 CURTEIS (Rev. G. H.) 32, 34 
 
 FITZMAURICE (Lord E.) . 5 
 
 CARNOT (N. L. G.) . . 27 
 
 DAHN (F.) . . . 17 
 
 FLEAY (F. G.) . . . 13 
 
 CARPENTER (Bishop) . 33 
 
 DAKYNS(H. G.) . . 37 
 
 FLEISCHER (E.). . . 7 
 
 CARR(J.C) ... 2 
 
 DALE (A. W. W.) . . 31 
 
 FLEMING (G.) ... 17 
 
 CARROLL (Lewis) . 26, 38 
 
 DALTON (Rev. J. N.) . 37 
 
 FLOWER (Prof. W. H.) . 39 
 
 CARTER (R. Brudenell) 22, 23 
 
 DANTE . . .3, 13, 37 
 
 FLUCKIGER (F. A.) . . 23 
 
 CASSEL (Dr. D.) .9 
 
 DAVIES (Rev. J. LI.). 20, 31, 34 
 
 FORBES (A.) . . 4, 37 
 
 CAUTLEY(G. S.) . . 14 
 
 DAVIES(W.) ... 5 
 
 FORBES (Prof. G.) . .3 
 
 CAZENOVE (J. G.) . . 33 
 
 DAWKINS(\V. B.) . . i 
 
 FORBES (Rev. G. H.) . 34 
 
 CHALMERS (J. B.) . .8 
 
 DAWSON (G. M.) . . 9 
 
 FOSTER (Prof. M.) . 6, 27 
 
 CHALMERS (M. D.) . . 29 
 
 DA\vsoN(SirJ.\V.) . . 9 
 
 FOTHERGILL (Dr. J. M.) 8,23 
 
 CHAPMAN (Elizabeth R.) . 14 
 CHASSERESSE (Diana) . 30 
 
 DAWSON (J.) . .1 
 DAY(L. B.) ... 17 
 
 FOWLE (Rev. T. W.). 29, 34 
 FOWLER (Rev. T.) . 4, 25 
 
 CHERRY (R. R.) . . 12 
 
 DAY (R. E.) ... 26 
 
 FOWLER (W.W.) . . 24 
 
 CHEYNE(C. H. H.) . . 2 
 
 DEFOE (D.) . . 4, 20 
 
 Fox (Dr. Wilson) . . 23 
 
 CHEYNE (T. K.) . . 30 
 
 DEIGHTON (K.). . . 15 
 
 FOXWELL (Prof. H. S) . 28 
 
 CHRISTIE (J.) . . -23 
 
 DELAMOTTE (P. H.). . 2 
 
 FRAMJI (D.) ... 9 
 
 CHRISTIE (W. D.) . . 20 
 
 DELL (E.G.) ... 12 
 
 FRANK-LAND (P. F.) . . i 
 
 CHURCH (Prof. A. H.) . 6 
 
 DE MORGAN (M.) . . 39 
 
 FRASER (Bishop) . . 34 
 
 CHURCH (Rev. A. J.) 4,30,37 
 
 DE VERE (A.) . . .20 
 
 FRASER-TYTLER (C. C.) . 14 
 
 CHURCH (F.J.). . 20,37 
 
 DICEY (A. V.) . . 12, 29 
 
 FRAZER (J. G.) . . i 
 
 CHURCH (Dean) 3,4,13,19,31,33 
 
 DICKENS (C.) . . 5, 17 
 
 FREDERICK (Mrs.) . . 8 
 
 CLARK (J. W.) ... 20 
 
 DiGGLK(Rev.J. W.). . 34 
 
 FREEMAN (Prof. E. A.) 
 
 CLARK (L.) ... 2 
 
 DILKE (Ashton W.) . . 19 
 
 2, 4, 10, 29, 32 
 
 CLARK (S.) ... 3 
 
 DILKE (Sir Charles W.) . 29 
 
 FRENCH (G. R.) . . 13 
 
INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1 AGE 
 
 FRIEDMANN (P.) . . 3 
 
 HARTE (Bret) . . -17 
 
 JO.XES (Prof. D. E.) . . 27 
 
 FROST (A. B.) ... 38 
 
 HARTic(Dr. R.) . . 6 
 
 JONES (F.). ... 7 
 
 FROUDE (J. A.). . . 4 
 
 HARTLEY (Prof. W. N.) . 7 
 
 KANT . . . .25 
 
 FURNISS (Harry) . . 38 
 
 liAkvVOOL) (G.) . .21, 29, 32 
 
 KAKI . . . -39 
 
 FUHNIVALL (F. J.) . .-14 
 
 HAYES (A.) . . .14 
 
 KAVANAGn(Rt.Hn.A.M.) 4 
 
 KYKFE(C.A.) . . .10 
 
 HEADLAM (W.). . . 36 
 
 KAY (Rev. W.). . . 31 
 
 FYFE(J. H.) . . . 10 
 
 HELPS (Sir A.) . . . 21 
 
 KEARY (Annie). 10, 18, 39 
 
 GAIRDNER (J.) . . 4 
 
 HFMPEL (Dr W ) 7 
 
 KE\RY (Eliza) 39 
 
 GALTON (F.) . . i, 27 
 
 HERODOTUS . . .36 
 
 KEATS . . .4, 20, 21 
 
 GAMGEE (Arthur) . . 27 
 
 HERRICK . . . .20 
 
 KELLNER (Dr. L.) . . 25 
 
 GARDNER (Percy) . . i 
 
 HERTEL(Dr.) ... 8 
 
 KELLOGG (Rev. S. H.) . 34 
 
 GARNETT (R.) . . . 14 
 
 HERVEY (Lord A.) . . 34 
 
 KEMPE(A. B.) . . . 26 
 
 GARNETT (W.) . . . 5 
 
 HILL (F. Davenport). . 29 
 
 KENNEDY (Prof. A. B. W.) 8 
 
 GASKELL (Mrs.) . . 12 
 
 HlLL(O-). ... 2 9 
 
 KENNEDY (B. H.) . . 36 
 
 GASKOIN (Mrs. H.) . . 30 
 
 HIORNS(A. H.) . . 23 
 
 KEYNES(J.N-). . 26,28 
 
 GEDDES(W. D.) . 13,37 
 
 HOBART (Lord) . . 21 
 
 KlEI ERT(H.) 
 
 GEE (W. H.) . . 26, 27 
 
 HOBDAY (E.) ... 9 
 
 KlLLEN (W. D.) . . 3 2 
 
 GKIKIE (Sir A.). . 4,9,27 
 
 HODGSON (Rev. J, T.) . 4 
 
 KINGSLEY (Charles) . 4,1,10, 
 
 GENNADIUS (J.) . . 17 
 GIBBINS (H.de B.) . . 10 
 
 HOFFDING (Prof. H.) . 26 
 
 HOFMANN (A. W.) . . 7 
 
 11,12,13,15,18,21,24,32,37,39 
 KINGSLEY (Henry) . 20, 37 
 
 GIBBON (Charles) . . 3 
 GILCHRIST (A.). . . 3 
 
 HOLE (Rev. C.). . 7, 10 
 HOLIDAY (Henry) . . 38 
 
 KIPLING (J. L.). . . 38 
 KIPLING (Rudyard) . . 18 
 
 GILES (P.). . . . 25 
 
 HOLLAND (T. E.) . 12, 29 
 
 KlRKPATKICK (Prof.) . 34 
 
 GlLMAN(N. P.) . . 28 
 
 HLLWAY-CALTHROP(H.) 38 
 
 KLEIN (Dr. E.). . 6, 23 
 
 GILMORE (Rev. J.) . . 13 
 
 HOLMES (O. W.,junr.) . 12 
 
 KNIGHT (W.) . . -14 
 
 GLADSTONE (Dr. J. H.) 7,8 
 
 HOMER ... 13, 36 
 
 KUENEN (Prof. A.) . . 30 
 
 GLADSTONE (VV. E.). . 13 
 
 HOOKER (Sir J. D.) . 6, 37 
 
 KY.XASTON (Rev. H.) 34, 37 
 
 GLAISTER(E.) . . . 2, 8 
 
 HOOLE(C. H.) . . . 3 
 
 LABBERTON (R. H.). . 3 
 
 GODFRAY(H.) ... 3 
 
 HOOPER (G.) ... 4 
 
 LAFARGUE (P.). . . 18 
 
 GODKIN (G. S.). . . 5 
 
 HOOPER (W. H.) . . 2 
 
 LAMB. . . .4, *o, 21 
 
 GOETHE . . . 4, 14 
 
 Hop E (F.J.) ... 9 
 
 LANCIANI (Prof. R.). . 2 
 
 GOLDSMITH 4, 12, 14, 20, 21 
 
 HOPKINS (E.) ... 14 
 
 LANDAUER (J.). . . 7 
 
 GOODALE (Prof. G. L.) . 6 
 
 Hoppus(M. A. M.) . . 18 
 
 LAXDOR . . . 4, 20 
 
 GOODFELLOW (J.) . . II 
 
 HORACE ... 13, 20 
 
 LANE-POOLE (S.) . . 20 
 
 GORDON (General C. G.) . 4 
 
 HoRT(Prof. F.J.A.). 30,32 
 
 LANFREY (P.) ... 5 
 
 GORDON (Lady Duff) . 37 
 
 HORTON (Hon. S. D.) . 28 
 
 LANG (Andrew). 2, 12, 21, 36 
 
 GoscHEN(Rt. Hon.G.J.). 28 
 
 HOVENDEN (R. M.) . . 37 
 
 LANG (Prof. Arnold). . 39 
 
 GOSSE (Edmund) . 4, 13 
 
 HOWELL (George) . . 28 
 
 LANGLEY (J. N.) . . 27 
 
 Gow(J.) .... i 
 
 HOWES (G. B.) . . . 40 
 
 LAXKESTER (Prof. Ray) 6, 21 
 
 GRAHAM (D.) . . .14 
 
 HOWITT (A. W.) . . i 
 
 LASLETT(T.) ... 6 
 
 GRAHAM (J.W.) . . 17 
 GRAND HOMME(E.) . . 8 
 
 HOWSON (Very Rev. J. S.) 32 
 HoziER(Col.H. M.). . 24 
 
 LEAF (W.). . . 13, 36 
 LEAHY (Sergeant) . . 30 
 
 GRAY (Prof. Andrew) . 26 
 
 HUBNER (Baron) . . 37 
 
 LEA(M.) . . . . 18 
 
 GRAY (Asa) ... 6 
 
 HUGHES (T.) 4, 15, 18, 20, 37 
 
 LHE (S.) ... 20, 37 
 
 GRAY ... 4, 14, 21 
 
 HULL(E.). . . . 2, 9 
 
 LEEPER(A.) . . .37 
 
 GREEN (J. R.) . 9, 10, 12, 20 
 
 HULLAH (J.) . . 2, 2O, 24 
 
 LEGGE (A. O.) . . 10, 34 
 
 GREEN (Mrs. J. R.) . 4, 9, 10 
 GREEN (W. S.) . . . 37 
 GREENHILL(W. A.) . . 20 
 
 HUME(D.) ... 4 
 
 HuMi HRY(Prof.SirG.M.) 28,39 
 
 HUNT(W.) ... 10 
 
 LEMON (Mark) ... 20 
 LESLIE (A.) . . .38 
 LETHHRIDGE (Sir Roper) . 10 
 
 GREENWOOD (J. E.) . . 39 
 GRIFFITHS (W. H.) . . 23 
 
 HUNT (W. M.) ... 2 
 HUTTON (R. H.) . 4, 21 
 
 LEVY (Amy) . . .18 
 LEU-IS (R.) ... 13 
 
 GRIMM . . . .39 
 
 HUXLEY (T.) 4, 21, 27,28, 29,40 
 
 LiGHTFOOT(Bp.)2i,3o,3i,33,34 
 
 GROVE (Sir G.). . 9,24 
 
 IDDINGS (J. P.). . . 9 
 
 LlGHTWOOD (J. M.) . . 12 
 
 GUEST (E.) . . . 10 
 GUEST (M.J.) . 10 
 
 ILLINGWORTH (Rev. J. R.) 34 
 INGRAM (T. D.) . . 10 
 
 LINDSAY (Dr. J. A.) . . 23 
 
 LOCKYER(J. N.) . 3, 7, 27 
 
 GUILLEMIN (A.) . 26, 27 
 
 IRVING (J.) . . .10 
 
 LODGE (Prof. O.J.) . 21, 27 
 
 GUIZOT(F. P. G.) . . 5 
 
 IRVING (Washington) . 12 
 
 LOEWY(B.) . . .26 
 
 GUNTON (G.) ... 28 
 
 HALES (J. W.) . . 16, 20 
 
 JACKSON (Helen) . . 18 
 JACOB (Rev. J. A.) . . 34 
 
 LoFTiE(Mrs. W.J.). . 2 
 LONGFELLOW (H. W.) . 20 
 
 HALLWARD (R. F.) . . 12 
 HAMERTON (P. G.) . 2, 21 
 
 JAMES (Henry). . 4, iS, 21 
 JAMES (Rev. H. A.) . . 34 
 
 LONSDALE (J.) . . 20, 37 
 Lo\v-E(W. H.) . . .30 
 
 HAMILTON (Prof. D. J.) . 23 
 
 JAMES (Prof. W.) . . 26 
 
 LOWELL (J. R.). . 15, 21 
 
 HAMILTON (J.). . . 34 
 
 JAMES (Sir W. M.) . . 10 
 
 LuBBOCK(Sir J.) 6, 8, 21, 22, 40 
 
 HANBURY (D.) . . 6, 23 
 
 JARDINE (Rev. R.) . . 26 
 
 LUCAS (F.) ... 15 
 
 HANNAY (David) . . 4 
 
 JEANS (Rev. G. E.) . 34, 37 
 
 LUI-TON (S.) ... 7 
 
 HARDWICK (Archd. C.) 31, 34 
 HARDY (A. S.) . . . 17 
 HARDY (T.) ... 17 
 
 JEBB (Prof. R. C.) . 4, 10, 13 
 JELLETT (Rev. J. H.) . 34 
 JENKS (Prof. Ed.) . . 29 
 
 LYALL (Sir Alfred) . . 4 
 LYTE(H. C. M.) . . 10 
 LYTTON (Earl of) . .18 
 
 HARE (A. VV.) ... 20 
 
 JENNINGS (A. C.) . 10,30 
 
 MACALISTER (D.) . . 23 
 
 HARE(J.C.) . . 20, 34 
 
 JEVONS (W. S.). 4, 26, 28, 29 
 
 MACARTHUR (M.) . . 10 
 
 HARPER (FatherThos.) 25,34 
 
 JEX-BLAKE (Sophia). . 8 
 
 MACAULAY (G. C.) . . 36 
 
 HARRIS (Rev. G. C.). . 34 
 
 JOHNSON (Amy) . . 27 
 
 MACCOLL (Norman). . 14 
 
 HARRISON (F.). . 4, 5, 21 
 
 JOHNSON (Samuel) . . 13 
 
 M Cosn (Dr. J.) . 25, 26 
 
 HARRISON (Miss J.) . . i 
 
 JONES (H. Arthur) . . 15 
 
 MACDONALD (G.) . . r6 
 
INDEX. 
 
 43 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 MACDONKLI. (J.) . 29 
 
 MORRIS (Mowbray) . . 4 
 
 POLLOCK (Lady) . . 2 
 
 MACKAILCJ.W.) . . 37 
 
 MORRIS (R.) . . 20, 25 | POLLOCK (W. H.) . . 2 
 
 MACKENZIE (Sir Morell) . 23 
 
 MoRSHEADfE. D. A.) . 36 
 
 POOLK (M. E.) . . . 22 
 
 MACLAGAN (Dr. T.). . 23 
 
 MOULTON (I,. C.) . . 15 
 
 POOI.E (R. L.) . . .11 
 
 MACLAREX (Rev. Alex.) . 34 
 
 MUDIE (C. E.) . . .15 
 
 POPE . . . . 4, 20 
 
 MACLAREX (Archibald) . 39 
 
 Muix(M. M.P.) . . 7 
 
 POSTE (E.) . . 27, 36 
 
 MACLEAN (W. C.) . . 23 
 
 MCLLER(H.) . 6 
 
 POTTER (L.) . . .22 
 
 MACLE.u<(Rev.Dr.G.F.) 30,32 j MULLIXGER (J. B.) . . n 
 
 POTTER (R.) . . .35 
 
 M LENNAN (J- F.) i . i MURPHY (J.J.). - . 26 
 
 PRESTON (T.) ... 27 
 
 M LENNAN (.Malcolm) . 18 
 
 MURRAY (D.Christie) . 18 
 
 PRICE (L. L. F. R.) . . 28 
 
 MACMILLAN(ReV. H.) 22, 35, 38 
 
 MURRAY (E. C. G.) . . 38 
 
 PRICKAKD (A. O.) . . 22 
 
 MACMILLAX (.Michael) 5, 15 
 
 MYERS (E.) . . 15, 36 
 
 PRINCE ALBERT VICTOR . 37 
 
 MACNAMARA (C.) . . 23 
 
 MYERS (F. W. H.) . 4, 15, 22 
 
 PRINCE GEORGE . . 37 
 
 MACQUOID (K. S.) . . 18 
 
 MYLNE (Bishop) . . 35 
 
 PROCTER (F.) . . .32 
 
 MADOC(F.) . . . 18 
 
 NADAL(E. S.) ... 22 
 
 PROPERT (J. L.) . .2 
 
 MAGUIRE(J.F.) . . 39 
 
 NETTLESHIP (H.). . . 13 
 
 RADCLIFFE (C. B.) . . 3 
 
 MAHAFKY(Prof. J. P.) 
 
 NEWCASTLE (Duke and 
 
 RAMSAY (W.) ... 7 
 
 2, II. IT.. -2 2, 25, 35, 38 
 
 Duchess) . . .20 
 
 RANSO.ME (C. ) . . .13 
 
 MAITLAND (F. \V.) . 12,29 
 
 NEV.-COMH (S:) . . . 3 
 
 RATH HONE (W.) . . 8 
 
 MALET(L.) . 18 
 
 NEWTON (Sir C. T.). . 2 
 
 RAWLINSON (W. G.). . z 
 
 MA LORY (Sir T.) . . 20 
 
 NICHOI.G.) . . 4,13 
 
 RAWNSLEY (H. D.) . . 15 
 
 MANSFIELD (C. B.) . . 7 
 
 NOEL (Lady A.) . .18 
 
 RAY(P.K.) ... 26 
 
 MARKHAM (C. R.) . . 4 
 
 NORDENSKIOLD (A. E.) . 38 
 
 RAYI.EIGH (Lord) . . 27 
 
 MARRIOTT(I. A. R.). . 5 
 
 NORGATE (Kate) . .11 
 
 REICHEL (Bishop) . . 35 
 
 MARSHALL (Prof. A.) . 28 
 
 NORRIS (W. E.) . .18 
 
 REiD(J.S.) ... 37 
 
 MARSHALL (M. P) . . 28 
 MAKTKL(C.) . . -24 
 
 NORTON- (Charles Eliot) . 3 
 NORTON (Hon. Mrs.) 15, 19 
 
 REMSEN (I.) ... 7 
 RENDALL (Rev. F.) . 31, 35 
 
 MARTIN (Frances) . 3, 39 
 
 OLiPHANT(Mrs. M. O. W.) 
 
 RENDU (M. leC.) . . 9 
 
 MARTIN (Frederick). . 28 
 MARTIN (H. N.) . . 40 
 
 4, ii, 13, IQ, 20, 39 
 OLIPHANT (T. L. K.) 22,25 
 
 REYNOLDS (H. R.) . . 35 
 REYNOLDS (J. R.) . . 23 
 
 MAKTINEAU (H.) . 5 
 
 OLIVER (Prof. D.) . . 6 
 
 REYNOLDS (O.). . . n 
 
 MARTINEAL (J.) . . 5 
 MASSON(D.) 4,5,15,16,20,22,26 
 
 OLIVER (Capt. S. P.). . 38 
 OMAN (C. W.) . . . 4 
 
 RICHARDSON (B. W.) n, 23 
 RICIIEY (A. G.). . . 12 
 
 MASSON (G.) . . 7, 20 
 
 OSTWALD (Prof.) . . 7 
 
 ROBINSON (Preb. H.G.) . 35 
 
 MASSON (R. O.) . . 16 
 
 OTTE(E. C.) . . .11 
 
 ROBINSON (J. L.) . . 24 
 
 MATURIN(RCV. W.). . 35 
 
 PAGE(T.E.) ... 31 
 
 ROBINSON (Matthew) . 5 
 
 MAUDSLEY (Dr. H.) . . 26 
 
 PALGRAVE (Sir F.) . . u 
 
 ROCHESTER (Bishop of) . 5 
 
 MAURICE (Fredk.Denison) 
 
 PALGRAVE (F.T.) 
 
 ROCKSTRO (W. S.) . . 4 
 
 8, 22, 25, 30, 31, 32, 35 
 MAURICE (Co!. F.) . 5,24,29 
 
 2, 15, 16, 20, 21, 33, 39 
 PALGRAVE (R. F. D.) . 20 
 
 ROGERS (J. E. T.) .11, 28, 29 
 ROMANES (G. J.) . . 6 
 
 MAX MULLER (F.) . . 25 
 
 PALGRAVE (R. H. Inglis) . 28 
 
 RoscoE(Sir H.E.) . . 7 
 
 MAYER (A.M.). . . 27 
 
 PALGRAVE (W. G.) 15, 29, 38 
 
 ROSEN BUSCH(H.) . . o 
 
 MAYOR (J. B.) . . .31 
 
 PALMER (Lady S.) . . 19 
 
 Ross (P.) . . . .19 
 
 MAYOR (Prof. J. E. B.) .3,5 
 MAZINI (L.) . . -39 
 
 PARKER (T.J.). 6,39 
 PARKER (W. N.) . . 40 
 
 ROSSETTI (C. G.) . 15, 39 
 
 ROUTLEDGE (J.) . . 2Q 
 
 M CORMICK (W. S.) . . I 3 
 
 MELDOLA (Prof. R.). 7, 26, 27 
 
 PARKINSON (S.) . . 27 
 PARKMAN (F.) . . .11 
 
 RowE(F.J-) . 16 
 ROCKER (Prof. A. W.) 7 
 
 MENDENHALL (T. C.) . 27 
 
 PARSONS (Alfred) . .12 
 
 RUMFORD (Count) . . 22- 
 
 MERCIER (Dr. C.) . . 23 
 
 PASTEUR (L.) . . . 7 
 
 RUSHBROOKE (W. G.) . 31 
 
 MERCUR (Prof. J.) . . 24 
 
 PATER (W. H.) . 2, 19, 22 
 
 RUSSELL (Dean) . . 35 
 
 MEREDITH (G.). . . 15 
 MEREDITH (L. A.) . . 12 
 
 PATERSON (J.) . . .12 
 PATMORE (Coventry) 20, 39 
 
 RUSSKLL (Sir Charles) . 29 
 RUSSELL (W. Clark) . 4, 19 
 
 MEYER (E. von) . . 7 
 MIALL (A.) ... 5 
 
 PATTESON (J. C.) . .5 
 PATTISON (Mark) . 4, 5, 35 
 
 RYLAND (F.) . 13 
 RYLE (Prof. H. E.) . .30 
 
 MlCHELET (M.) . .11 
 
 PAYNE (E. J.) . . 10, 29 
 
 ST. JOHNSTON (A.) .19, 38, 39 
 
 MiLL(H.R.) ... 9 
 
 PEABODY (C. H.) . 8, 27 
 
 SADLER (H.) . . . 2 
 
 MILLER (R.K.). . . 3 
 
 PEEL(E.). ... 15 
 
 SAINTSBURY (G.) . 4,13 
 
 MILLIGAN (Rev. W.). 31, 35 
 
 PEILE(J.). ... 25 
 
 SALMON (Rev. G.) . . 35 
 
 MILTON . . 13, 15, 20 
 
 PELI.ISSIHR (E.) . . 25 
 
 SANDFORD(M. E.) . . 5 
 
 MINCHIN (Prof. G. M.) . 15 
 
 PENNELL (J.) ... 2 
 
 SANDYS (J. E.). . . 38 
 
 MINTO (Prof. W.) . 4) 18 
 
 PENNINGTON (R.) . . 9 
 
 SAYCE(A.H.) . n 
 
 MlTFORD (A. 1 .) . . 18 
 
 PENKOSF. (F.C.) . . i, 3 
 
 SCHAFf.-(P.) ... 30 
 
 MIVART (St. George). . 28 
 MlXTER (W. G.) . . 7 
 
 MOHAMMAD . . .20 
 
 PERRY (Prof. J.) . . 27 
 PETTIGREW (J. B.) . 6, 28, 40 
 PHILLIMORE (J. G.) . . 12 
 
 SCHLIEMANN (Dr.) . . 2 
 SCHORLEMMER (C.) . . 7 
 SCOTT (D. H.) . . .6 
 
 MOLESVrOKTH (Mr.S.) . 39 
 MOLLOY ((j.) . . .26 
 
 PHILLIPS (J. A.) . . 23 
 PHILLIPS (W. C.) . . 2 
 
 SCOTT (SirW.). . I5| 20 
 SCRATCHLEY (Sir Peter) . 24 
 
 MONAHAN (J. H.) . . 12 
 
 PlCTON (J. A.) . . .22 
 
 SCUDDER (S. H.) . . 40 
 
 MONTELIUS (O.) . . I 
 
 PlFFARD (H. G.) . . 23 
 
 SEATON (Dr. E. C.) . . 23 
 
 MOORE (C. H.). . . 2 
 
 PLATO . . . .20 
 
 SEELEY(T.R.). . .11 
 
 MOORHOUSE (Bishop) . 35 
 
 PLUMPTRE (Dean) . . 35 
 
 SEILEK (Dr. Carl) . 23, 28 
 
 MORISON (J.) . .15 
 
 POLLARD (A. W.) . . 37 
 
 SELBORNE(Earlof) 12,20,32.3? 
 
 MORISON (J- C.) . . 3, 4 
 
 PoLi.oci<:(SirFk.,2nd Bart.) 5 
 
 SELLERS (E.) . . .2 
 
 MORI.EY (John). 3, 4, 16, 22 
 
 PoLLOCK(Sir F., Bart.) 12,22,29 
 
 SERVICE (J.) . . 32,35 
 
44 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SEWELL (E. M.) . .n 
 
 TANNER (H.) . 
 
 I 
 
 ! WARD (A. W.) . . 4 , 13, 20 
 
 SHAIRP (J. C.) . . 4, 15 
 
 TAVERNIER (J. B.) . 
 
 38 
 
 i WARD (H. M.) ... 6 
 
 SHAKESPEARE . 13, 15, 20, 21 
 
 TAYLOR (Franklin) . 
 
 24 
 
 i WARD(S.). . . . 10 
 
 SHA.VN iG.l . . 8, 27 
 
 TAYLOR (Isaac). 
 
 2 5, 35 
 
 ! WARD (T. H.) v . .16 
 
 SHARP (W.) ... 5 
 
 TAYLOR (Sedley) 
 
 24, 27 
 
 1 WARD (Airs. T. H.) . 19, 39 
 
 SHEI.LEY . . . 15, 21 
 
 TEGETMEIER (W. B.) 
 
 8 
 
 i WARD (W.) . . 5, 32 
 
 SHIRLEY (W. N.) . . 35 
 
 TEMPLE (Bishop) 
 
 35 
 
 i WARINGTON (G.) . . 36 
 
 SHORTHOUSE (J. H.) . 19 
 
 TEMPLE (Sir R.) 
 
 4 
 
 j WATERS (C. A.) . . 28 
 
 SHORTLAND (Admiral) . 24 
 
 TENNANT (Dorothy). 
 
 33 
 
 ; WATERTON (Charles) 24, 38 
 
 SHCCHHARDT (Carl). . 2 
 
 TENNIEL . 
 
 - 38 
 
 j WATSON (E.) ... 5 
 
 SHUCKBURGH (E. S.) 11,36 
 
 TENNYSON . 14, 
 
 16, 2! 
 
 ! WATSON (R. S.) . .38 
 
 SHUFELDT (R. W.) . . 40 
 
 TENNYSON (Frederick) 
 
 . 16 
 
 i WEHH(W. T.) . . 16, 37 
 
 SIBSON (Dr. F.) . . 23 
 
 TENNYSON (Hallam). 
 
 I2 > 39 
 
 WEBSTER (Mrs. A.) . . 39 
 
 SIDGWICK (Prof. H.) 26, 28, 29 
 SIME (J.) . . . 9, 10 
 
 THOMPSON (D A. W.) 
 THOMPSON (E.). 
 
 . 6 
 10 
 
 WELBY-GREGORY (Lady) . 32 
 WELLUON(Rev.J. E.G.). 36 
 
 SIMPSON (Rev. W.) . . 32 THOMPSON (S. P.) . 
 
 27 
 
 WESTCCTT (Bp.) 30,31,32,36 
 
 SKEAT (W.W.) . . 13 
 
 THOMSON (A. W.) . 
 
 . 8 
 
 WESTERMARCK (E.). . i 
 
 SKRINE (J.H.). . 5,15 
 
 THOMSON (Sir C. W.) 
 
 . 40 
 
 WETHERELL (J.) . . 25 
 
 SLADE (J. H.) . . .8 
 
 THOMSON (Hugh) 
 
 12 
 
 WHEELER (T.T.) . . n 
 
 SLOMAN fRev. A.) . . 31 
 
 THOMSON (Sir Wm.) 24 
 
 26, 27 
 
 WHEWELL (WA . . 5 
 
 SMART (W.) ... 28 
 
 THORNE (Dr. Thome) 
 
 2 3 
 
 WHITE (Gilbert) . . 24 
 
 SM ALLEY (G.W.) . . 22 
 
 THORNTON (J.). 
 
 . 6 
 
 WHITE (Dr. W. Hale) . 23 
 
 SMETHAM (J.) . . .5 
 
 THORNTON (W. T.) 26, 
 
 2 9i 37 
 
 ! WHITE (W.) ... 27 
 
 SMITH (A.) . . .20 
 SMITH (C. B.) . . . 16 
 
 THORPE (T. E.). 
 
 THKIXG(E.) 
 
 7 
 
 8, 22 
 
 i WHITHAM (J. M.) . . 8 
 WHITNEY (W. D.) . . 8 
 
 SMITH (Goldwin) . 4, 5, 29 
 SMITH (H.) . 16 
 SMITH (J.) ... 6 
 
 THKUPP(J. F.). 
 THUDICHUM (T. L.W.) 
 THURSFIELD(J.R.)- 
 
 3 
 7 
 4 
 
 WHITTIER(J. G.) . 16, 22 
 WICKHAM (Rev. E. C.) . 36 
 
 WlCKSTEED (P. H.) . 28, 30 
 
 SMITH (Rev. T.) . . 35 
 
 TODHUXTER (I.) 
 
 5, 8 
 
 1 WlEDERSHEIM (R.) . . 40 
 
 SMITH(\V.G.) 
 
 TORRENS(W. M.) . 
 
 5 
 
 | WlLBRAHAM(F.M.). . 32 
 
 SMITH (W. S.) ... 35 
 
 TOURGEXIEF (I. S.) . 
 
 19 
 
 WILKIXS (Prof. A. S.) 2,13,36 
 
 SOMERVILLE (Prof. W.) . 6 
 
 Tour(T. F.) . 
 
 1 1 
 
 WILKINSON (S.) . . 24 
 
 SOUTHEY .... 5 
 
 Tozt-R(H. F.) . 
 
 9 
 
 WILLIAMS (G. H.) . . 9 
 
 SPENDER (J. K.) . . 23 
 
 TRAILL (H. DA 
 
 4, 2 9 
 
 WILLIAMS (Montagu) . 5 
 
 SPENSER . . . .20 
 
 TRENCH (Capt. F.) . 
 
 2 9 
 
 WILLIAMS (S. E.) . . 13 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE (W.). . 27 
 
 TRENCH (Archbishop) 
 
 35 
 
 WILLOUGHHY (F.) . . 39 
 
 STANLEY (Dean) . . 35 
 
 TREVEI.YAN (Sir G. O.) 
 
 . ii 
 
 WILLS (W. G.) . . .16 
 
 STANLEY (Hon. Maude) . 29 
 
 TRIBE (A.). 
 
 7 
 
 WILSON (A. J.) . . . 29 
 
 STATHA.M (R.) . . -29 
 
 TRISTRAM (W. O.) . 
 
 12 
 
 WILSON (Sir C.) . . 4 
 
 STEBBING(W.). . . 4 
 STEPHEN (C. E.) . . 8 
 
 TROLLOPE (A.) . 
 TRUMAN (J.) . 
 
 4 
 . 16 
 
 WILSON (Sir D.) . i, 3, 13 
 WILSON (Dr. G.) . 4,5,22 
 
 STEPHEN (H.) ... 13 
 
 TUCKER (T. G.) 
 
 36 
 
 WILSON (Archdeacon) . 36 
 
 STEPHEN (Sir J. F.) n, 13, 22 
 
 TULLOCH (Principal). 
 
 35 
 
 WILSON (Mary). . . 13 
 
 STEPHEN (J. K.) . . 13 
 
 TURNER (C. Tennyson) 
 
 . 16 
 
 WINGATE (Major F. R.) . 24 
 
 STEPHEN (L.) ... 4 
 
 TURNER (G.) . 
 
 i 
 
 WlNKWORTH (C.) . . 5 
 
 STEPHENS (J. B.) . . 16 
 
 TURNER (H. H.) 
 
 27 
 
 WOLSELEY (Gen. Viscount) 24 
 
 STEVENSON (J. J.) . . 2 
 
 TURNER (J.M.W.) . 
 
 12 
 
 WOOD (A. G.) . 16 
 
 STEWART (A.) . . -39 
 
 TYLOR(E. B.) . 
 
 ! 
 
 WOOD (Rev. E. G.) . . 36 
 
 STEWART (Balfour) 26, 27, 35 
 
 TYK\VHITT (R. St. J.) 
 
 2, 16 
 
 WOODS (Rev. F. H.). . i 
 
 STEWART (S. A.) . . 6 
 
 VAUGHAN (C. J.) 31,32 
 
 35,36 
 
 WOODS (Miss M. A.). 16, 33 
 
 STOKES (Sir G. G.) . . 27 VAUHHAN (Rev. D. J.) 
 STORY (R.H.). . . 3 VACCHAN (Rev. E.T.) 
 
 20, 36 
 S 6 
 
 WOODWARD (C. M.) . . 8 
 WOOLNER (T.) . 16 
 
 STONE (W.H.). . . 27 
 
 VAVGHAX (Rev. R.). 
 
 36 
 
 WORDSWORTH . 5, 14, 16, 21 
 
 STRACHEY (Sir E.) . . 20 
 STRACHEY(Gen. R.). . 9 
 
 VEI.EY(M.) 
 
 VENN (Rev. J.). 
 
 19 
 26, 36 
 
 WORTHEY (Mrs.) . . 19 
 WRIGHT (Rev. A.) . . 3 r 
 
 STRANGFORo(Viscountess) 38 
 
 VERNON (Hon. W. W.) 
 
 13 
 
 WRIGHT (C. E. G.) . .8 
 
 STRETTELL (A.) . . 16 
 
 VERRALL(A. W.) . 
 
 13, 36 
 
 WRIGHT (J.) . .21 
 
 STUBBS (Rev. C. W.). . 35 
 
 VERRALL (Mrs.) 
 
 
 WRIGHT (L.) . . -27 
 
 STUBBS (Bishop) . . 31 
 
 WAIN (Louis) . 
 
 39 
 
 WRIGHT (W. Aldis) 8, 15, 20, 31 
 
 SUTHERLAND A.) . . 9 
 
 WALDSTEIN (C.) 
 
 2 
 
 WURTZ (Ad.) ... 7 
 
 SYMONDS (J. A.) . . 4 
 
 WALKER (Prof. F. A.) 
 
 . 28 
 
 WYATT (Sir M. D.) . . 2 
 
 SYMONDS (Mrs. J. A.) . 5 
 
 WALLACE (A. R.) . 6, 
 
 24, 28 
 
 YONGE (C. M.) 5, 6, 8, 10, n, 
 
 SYMONS (A.) . . . 16 
 
 WALLACE (Sir D. M.) 
 
 2 9 
 
 19. 21,25, 3. 39 
 
 TAIT (Archbishop) . . 35 
 TAIT (C. W. A.) . . ir 
 
 WALPOLE(S.) . 
 WALTON (I.) . 
 
 2 9 
 12 
 
 YouNG(E.W.) . . 8 
 ZIEGI.ER (Dr. E.) .23 
 
 TAIT (Prof. P. G.) 26,27,35 
 
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