'And not lost the "exhibition?"'
'No; his marks more than entitle him to keep it.'
'And you will let him go back next month, father?'
'Certainly. Why, my dear——' For Jessie was off like an arrow from a bow, and did not even hear his exclamation.
He supposed she had gone to tell the others, and paused to read over the letter once more, with deep thankfulness, and much sympathy for Cecil. It was from young Mr. Lomax, not from the Doctor: the similarity in the handwriting had misled Mr. Cunningham. He said the mistake had been discovered by his father, but that, as it had been made by him, he could not rest without personally acknowledging it, and expressing his regret. He had been himself surprised, in the first instance, at the result of his addition; but as he had only to do with Cecil in mathematics, in which he was not remarkably proficient, it did not seem so astonishing to him as it did to his father, who had watched the boy's progress in classics. Dr. Lomax had not gone over the books himself at the time, but having occasion to refer to them for something the morning of the day on which Mr. Lomax wrote, he had counted up Cecil's marks throughout the year, just for his own satisfaction, and in doing so had discovered the mistake that had been made. 'We have since been over it all together,' continued the son; 'and being now fully convinced of my mistake, I hasten to apprise you of it, and to express my deep regret.' If Cecil had seen this sentence, and some which followed, he would certainly have abandoned his idea that 'young Lomax might have done it to spite him.'
'Mother!' called Mr. Cunningham, suddenly remembering the appointment which this letter had made him forget for a few minutes; and as his wife came running down in answer to his call, he went on: 'Has Jessie told you, love? I mustn't stay—but take the letter; I shall try to get down in time to meet that poor boy as he comes out from morning school.'
'I haven't seen Jessie,' Mrs. Cunningham answered; but she seemed to guess instinctively what the letter contained, and one glance at it confirmed her impression.
'My darling boy! oh, thank God!' she exclaimed. 'Lewis, you will bring him straight home with you, won't you?'
'If I don't, I shall have you following me and hugging him before the whole school,' said her husband, laughing, but almost with tears in his eyes; and he hurried away, while she went joyfully back to the drawing-room to tell Mary and Frances the good news.
They literally 'jumped for joy;' and there was a kind of triple hug between the mother and her daughters, from which Frances was the first to break away, crying, 'Oh, where's Jessie? do let me tell her! how glad she will be!'