The fever left him in due time, and his mind ceased to wander, but every hour his strength failed him.

His parents and Jim, and sometimes his old friend the rector, would constantly be about his bed, and to all of them it soon became evident what little hope there was of his recovery.

Indeed, he must have guessed it too! One day, as Jim sat with him, a faint shout was heard below in the quadrangle.
"What's that ?" inquired George.
"I'll see," said Jim, and he went lightly from the room.
Presently he returned with a face almost beaming.
"It's good news," he said; "they were reading the result of the Tripos." "And where are you ?" asked George.
"_You_ are first!" said Jim, proudly.
"Where are you ?" repeated George.
"I am twelfth." "In the first class ?" "Yes." "That is good news, old fellow!" "That shout was in your honour, you know; our college is as proud as anything to have the first man." George smiled feebly, and for a long time both were silent.
Then George said,-- "You were right, Jim, after all.

If I had listened to you I should have been wiser." "Never mind, old man, you'll know better another time." "I shall never have the chance, Jim." "Don't say that, George; every one hopes you'll get better." George smiled again, then said,-- "Jim, you will look after my father and mother, won't you?
You know I've got a little money now, and they will be comfortably off, but you'll go and see them now and then ?" Jim laid his hand on the wasted hand of his friend.
"And, Jim, I want you to take my watch when I'm gone.

I always valued it as much as anything, and I'd like you to have it." Poor Jim could say nothing, he only gave another pressure of his friend's hand.
Then presently Mrs Reader returned to the room, and he slipped away.
The end was not long in coming.