"Good evens! Mr. Harthur, what as appened, sir?" Mr. Morgan, the valet, asked, who had just arranged the well-brushed clothes and shiny boots at the door of his master's bed-room, and was carrying in his wig to the major.
"I want to see my uncle," he cried, in a ghastly voice, and flung himself down on a chair.
Morgan backed before the pale and desperate-looking young man, with terrified and wondering glances, and disappeared into his master's apartment.
The major put his head out of the bed-room door, as soon as he had his wig on.
"What! examination over? Senior Wrangler, double First Class, hay?" said the old gentleman—"I'll come directly;" and the head disappeared.
"They don't know what has happened," groaned Pen; "what will they say when they know all?"