He clasped Tony’s hand in his strong affectionate grip. “I am sorry for you, my boy.... Yes, I have just been reading a letter from your grandfather. There is no choice but for you to go at once.”
“I can leave on the ten o’clock from Monday Port, to-night, sir,” said Tony, “and catch the midnight express at Coventry, which will get me home the next evening.”
“Doubtless that is the best plan,” the Doctor agreed. “I don’t think, from what the General tells me, that you need worry about your mother’s immediate condition. But undoubtedly you are needed. I am very sorry that you should lose these two months, but you can keep up your work at home and there is no reason why you should not make the Sixth comfortably in September.”
“I think I could do that, sir,” replied Tony, “but my grandfather says there is some doubt about—about their being able to send me back next year.”
“Yes, yes, he writes that to me; but you are to come, nevertheless. We will arrange that. I hope the financial difficulties will straighten out satisfactorily, but if worst comes to worst and they should not, why there are any number of ways that we can provide for you. There is always a scholarship fund rusting in the bank,—ripening, I had better say, for just some such occasion. I fancy, even, that the school would be willing to trust you for your tuition. But one thing is quite settled: you are to return. And I will make that clear to Basil—to your grandfather.”
“Thank you, sir; you’ve been mighty good to me.”
“You have been mighty good to us—mighty good for us, I may say,—my boy.... Good-bye now, for the present.... And God bless you.”
In a moment or so Tony was gone. He found Jimmie, Charlie Gordon, Teddy Lansing, and told them the news. And then, after a few hasty farewells, went to his rooms with Jimmie to pack. It was then late in the afternoon. The packing was a sad business, for he felt he must take everything. He would be away five months; perhaps, despite the Doctor’s kind prophecy, for good. As this possibility occurred to him, he would stand now and then in the middle of the room, with a coat or hat or what not in his hands, and feel it was simply impossible to go on. Tears would start in his eyes and trickle down his cheeks. He had always liked the school, even in his bad moods he had been loyal; but he had not known, he had not realized, as few boys do at the time, how the school had become a part of his very life, how intensely his affections were centered there. And then—Mr. Morris; the fellows, Jimmie, Teddy, Charlie, Kit—it would be hard to leave without saying good-bye to Kit—, Reggie!
He turned to Jimmie who had come in at the moment with his arms full of Tony’s belongings that he had collected from various parts of the school, locker rooms and the like. “Excuse me for a little while, Jimmie old boy; I’ve got to run over and see Reggie. I haven’t told him yet.” Tony had a pang of regret that he had seen so little of Reggie of late, “I’ll be back before long.”
“All right,” said Jimmie dolefully. “I’ll go on with the packing, if you don’t mind. Don’t be long.”