“He came with us, sir,” said Reginald, stepping forward.
“Mortimer here!” said the doctor. “How do you do? and Louis, too, I presume—where is he? I am very glad to see you again,” he added, as Louis came forward with a blushing but not miserable countenance. He then spoke to the other new-comers, and then, commanding silence, read prayers.
The young gentlemen were just retiring, when Dr. Wilkinson desired them to stay a moment—“I have one request to make, young gentlemen,” he said, gravely; “that is, I particularly wish when Mr. Ferrers returns that no allusion be made to any thing gone by, and that you treat him as one worthy to be among you.”
The doctor paused as he spoke, and glanced along the row of faces, many of which looked sullen and cloudy: most of them avoided their master's eye, and looked intently on the ground. Dr. Wilkinson sought Hamilton's eye, but Hamilton, though perfectly conscious of the fact, was very busily engaged in a deep meditation on the texture of Louis' jacket.
“Hamilton.”
“Sir,” replied Hamilton, reluctantly raising his eyes.
“I look to you, as the head of the school, to set the example. I am grieved to see so little Christian spirit among you. Why should you feel more aggrieved than the injured party, who has, I am sure, heartily forgiven all, and will wish no further notice to be taken of what has passed?”
Louis looked up acquiescently, and slipped his hand into Hamilton's. A slight pressure was returned, and Hamilton, bowing to the doctor, led the way out of the room.
On the way up stairs many rebellious comments were made on the doctor's speech, and some invoked tremendous penalties on themselves if they had any thing to do with him or any like him. Hamilton was quite silent, neither checking nor exciting the malcontents. He put his hand into Louis' arm, and, walking up stairs with him, wished him a warm good-night, and marched off to his own apartment.
This evening, as there were one or two new-comers, an usher was present in the dormitory to insure the orderly appropriation of the several couches; and, to Louis' great satisfaction, he was able to get quietly into bed—where, feeling very dull and sad, he covered his head over and unconsciously performed a crying duet with his new friend.