"That is the way, Rexworth." Mr. Delermain laid one hand on the boy's shoulder as he spoke. "And even if you do not win, the work itself is sure to prove of great use to you later on. By all means enter; and if you want any assistance or advice, do not hesitate to come to me. I shall always be very glad to do anything in my power to assist you."
So Ralph put his name down, and some of the boys stared when they heard it. A new boy, only a week there, putting his name down for the Newlet!
"Cheek!" said Elgert.
"Rubbish!" said Dobson.
"No use!" said a good many; but Ralph paid no heed to it all. One thing nerved him. Elgert was going in for it; and he felt that if he could not beat him, it would be strange.
"You will have to work very hard, Ralph," was the verdict of Mr. St. Clive, when he heard of it. "It is an honour to gain the medal, but it is an honour that has to be earned by hard work."
"You will try your very best, won't you, Ralph?" pleaded Irene. "I should just love you to win it, the same as if you were my very own brother."
Brother! Well, well; Irene and Ralph were but young; perhaps, later on, it would not be brother, perhaps—who can say?
So Ralph began to undergo that process which Warren called swatting, or grinding, and it was not all easy. When the day's work was over, and the boys ran off to their games, or settled down to their story books—and Ralph loved story books—it was not easy to get out the dry figures and bend over them, studying tricky sums, or working out obscure equations; it was not easy, but it had to be done. Ralph was beginning to understand what work meant.
And Charlton proved himself a good chum in the hour of need, for he was farther on than Ralph, and could help him in many points. Indeed, Ralph wondered why he had not entered himself; but Charlton sighed and shook his head.