Henderson shook him warmly by the hand, and whispered—“I’ve such lots to tell you;” and, sitting down by Walter, he gave him an account of what had just taken place. “You should have heard Power, Walter; upon my word he spoke like an orator, and regularly bowled the Harpour lot off their legs. It’s splendid to see him coming out so in the school—isn’t it?”
“It is indeed; and thanks to you, too, Flip, for sticking up for me.”
“Oh, what I did was nothing. But only fancy that fellow Kenrick fighting against us like this, and giving his casting vote against Harpour’s being thrashed! You’ve no idea, Walter, how that fellow’s changed.”
He was interrupted, for Eden woke with a short scream, and, starting up in bed, looked round with a scared expression, shuddering and moaning as he fell back again on his pillow.
“Oh, don’t, don’t, don’t frighten me,” he said appealingly, while the perspiration burst out over his pale face; “please, Harpour, please don’t. Oh, Walter, Walter, do help me.”
“Hush, my poor, little fellow, I’m here,” said Walter tenderly, as he smoothed his pillow; “don’t be afraid, Arty, you’re quite safe, and I’m staying with you. They only put on masks to frighten you; it was nothing but that.”
Bending over the bed, he talked to him in a gentle, soothing voice, and tried to make him feel at ease, while the child flung both his arms round his neck, sobbing, and still clung tight to his hand when Walter had succeeded in allaying the sudden paroxysm of terror.
Henderson, deeply touched, had looked on with glistening eyes. “How kind you are, Walter,” he said, taking his other hand, and affectionately pressing it. “I should just like to have Kenrick here, and show him what his new friends have done.”
“Don’t be indignant against him, Flip. I wish, indeed, he would but come into this room, and make it up with us, and be what he once was. But he did not even take the slightest notice of the letter I wrote him, entreating him to overlook any fault I had been guilty of, however unconsciously. I never meant to wrong him, and I love him as much as ever.”
“Love him!” said Henderson, “I don’t; his new line isn’t half to my fancy. He must be jolly miserable, that’s one comfort.”