“Well!” and Arthur thought. “Let me see. I will try and be ready, five minutes beforehand; and I dare say, the other boys will be longer going to-day.”
“Oh, yes!” said Edgar. “I forgot; there will be plenty of time, of course, this last day.”
So Arthur hurried in to his class, forgetting, after he had given it a moment’s thought, what Edgar had said.
He thought of it again, when he was waiting under the trees; where groups of boys were standing, talking eagerly, with bright, busy faces. Edgar’s was very different, and his pale, earnest face was even deeper than usual.
“Well,” said Arthur, “what have you to tell me?”
Edgar had a letter in his hand.
“Why, look here,” he said. “I told you, I had to go and live at my uncle’s in London. I did not mind that; it did not make much difference; but see here, what he says in this letter I had to-day. He is my guardian now, you know, and he says he thinks it will be better for me on every account, to give up school.”
“And what are you to do? Not going to have any more lessons?”
“He says, I am to study with his boys. They have a tutor, and he hopes we shall all find it very pleasant.”
Edgar’s face did not look as if he expected to do so.