“But Tom, the subject of all these remarks, congratulations, and the like, bowed politely to his schoolmates, and went up to his rooms.
“‘I leave to-morrow, Phil,’ said he, as I shook him by the hand; ‘my books are all at your service, my boy; you’ll have to pass through the same unpleasant ordeal yourself next year. If you find any use for them, I give them with much pleasure. There are no “crammers” or “coaches” among them; I despise all that sort of thing as much as you do.’
“‘But why look so sad, Tom? Confound it, man! cheer up! there are scores within the walls this moment, who would willingly give thousands for your prizes and parchments. How delighted your uncle will be!’ said I.
“There was no response.
“He relapsed into his customary silence and thoughtfulness, and although we both drank heavily that night, not a word escaped him in his cups.
“Next day, towards evening, we drove together towards the coaching station, and when on the top of a hill about a mile from the University buildings, he stopped the vehicle and looked towards them in silence and with evident emotion.
“‘How beautifully the sun sets in the west, and how charming the old grounds look bathed in sunlight. See how the steeple casts its shadows across the grand walks, and how the clock-tower and weather-vane glow again with changing light! I never loved but once, Phil, and that was once too often for my own peace through life, yet the memories of Alma Mater, with its dingy walls, old towers, and chiming bells, unmans me more than all things else in the world!’
GIVEN AWAY!!