"God only knows."
"Well, let's change the subject. You've being playing brilliantly, old fellow."
"Have I?"
"I should just think so, only you got out in rather a stupid way."
"Ah well! it matters very little."
Just at this moment one of the servants handed Eric a kind note from Mrs. Rowlands, with whom he was a very great favorite, asking him to tea that night. He was not very surprised, for he had been several times lately, and the sweet womanly kindness which she always showed him caused him the greatest pleasure. Besides, she had known his mother.
"Upon my word, honors are being showered on you!" said Wildney. "First to get the score of the season at cricket, and bowl out about half the other side, and then go to tea with the head-master. Upon my word! Why any of us poor wretches would give our two ears for such distinctions. Talk of curse indeed! Fiddlestick end!"
But Eric's sorrow lay too deep for chaff, and only answering with a sigh, he went to dress for tea.
Just before tea-time Duncan, and Montagu strolled in together. "How splendidly Eric played," said Duncan.
"Yes, indeed. I'm so glad. By the bye, I must see about getting a new bat. I don't know exactly how much money we've got, but I know there's plenty. Let's come and see."