"Well, you needn't talk about it to the other fellows. Father and mother are in India. Father's regiment was ordered abroad four years ago, and mother went with him. There were three of us, and we were sent to Uncle Charlie to take care of. I was eight years old then, Nellie was five, and Chris three years old. Uncle was jolly and kind, and sent me here when I was ten. Just before the summer holidays were over Uncle Charlie married, and I'm sure our new aunt does not care for us to be there. But I never thought they'd send Chris to school. I wonder what they'll do with Nellie?"
"I will directly, but it's so long before I can hear."
A poor little fellow taken from the nursery. A brave, bright little man enough, but oh! so young, so pitifully young to be sent to a school where there were fifty or sixty boys in what was called the lower school only! Poor little Christopher! If his mother could have seen him! He came--bright--happy--full of life, determined to like it; but before two days were over his little soul was full of misery. The boys of ten and eleven years became his dread and torment. On the second day he saw nothing of Hubert till the evening, and then he said, "Hubert, why couldn't I go to our grandfather?"
"Nobody even thought of such a thing, Chris. I don't expect our grandfather would like us."
"Oh! don't bother," returned his brother. "Only by what I've heard nurse say. She was talking one day to Jane, and she said, 'The children would have gone to General Graham's, only, you know, he was angry with master for marrying, and so master never asked him to have them.' I asked nurse what she meant, and she was vexed that I'd heard it, and said it was nothing I could understand."
"Try to like it. Seton says you can go into his study to-night, and do your exercises. The fellows in the school don't leave you alone, do they, Chris?"
"No," said poor little Chris; "they don't." And sitting in Seton's little study that night the child found comfort for the first time.
And for a few days things seemed better. But it was not to last. Those boys in the lower school, who had tormented him before, were worse than ever, now that they thought he was being made a favourite of by one of the senior boys, and the poor little fellow had no peace. He complained bitterly to his brother, but it was no good. Hubert said it would only make the boys ten times worse if he interfered. "And never mind, old fellow," he said; "it's half-holiday to-morrow, and you'll get some jolly games."