"Is there any wrong in it, mother?" she asked, turning her perplexed face to Barbe.
"Why, not as I see. You have been friends for so long. And it is seldom that he gets out now."
The Post brought a letter from Archie. It was really very joyous. He had won a prize for a fine treatise, and had joined a club, not for pleasure or card playing, but debating and improvement of the mind.
She was very glad they would have this to talk about. And when Ned saw her joyous face, and had her gay greeting, his heart gave a great bound. They went off together in a merry fashion.
"Oh, you cannot think"—then pausing suddenly—"Did you have word from Archie in the post?"
"No, but a letter came for mother."
"You hurried me so, or I should have remembered to bring it. Father thought it so fine. He has won a prize, twenty-five pounds. And he thinks another year he may pass all the examinations. Oh, won't your mother be glad?"
There was such a sweet, joyous satisfaction in her tone, such a lovely light in her eyes, that his heart made a protest.
"You care a great deal about his success?" he said jealously.
"Yes, why not?" in surprise.