It was plain to see his friend's protest had come too late to be of much use, for he had grown more and more worn every day; and the additional hours spent in bed had only been a source of worry and vexation.

Jim, on the other hand, was doing his best to keep up, not his own spirits only, but those of his friend.

His chances of a second class were as momentous to him (though he would not admit it) as his friend's of a first, and he too was experiencing, though in a less degree, that heart-sinking which so often characterises the eve of an examination.
"You are not going to work to-night ?" said he to my master.
"I think I must," said George, wearily, and putting his hand to his forehead.
"It can't be any earthly good now," said Jim, "so let's forget all about it for a bit and talk of something else." Forget all about it! George smiled in a melancholy way at the words; but nevertheless he was not well enough to contest the point.

"And by the way," added Jim, cheerily, "I've got a letter from Newcome (you remember Newcome, George, the man who played for Sandhurst against us two years ago) I think you'll like to hear." There was one in the room, whether George liked it or not, who was dying to hear it! "He's just gone out to India, you know, to join his regiment." "Here's his letter," he said, producing it and nervously glancing at George to see if he appeared interested.

"Shall I read it ?" "Yes, please," said George, slowly.
"It's not a long one.