CHAPTER THREE.
HOW A MYSTERIOUS NEW BOY CAME TO STONEBRIDGE HOUSE.
When I rose next morning, and proceeded to take my turn at the washstand, and array my person in the travel-stained garments of the previous day, it seemed ages since I had parted with Brownstroke and entered the gloomy precincts of Stonebridge House.
Everything and everybody around me was gloomy.

Even Flanagan seemed not yet to have got up the steam; and as for the other boys--they skulked morosely through the process of dressing, and hardly uttered a word.

It was a beautiful day outside; the sun was lighting up the fields, and the birds were singing merrily in the trees; but somehow or other the good cheer didn't seem to penetrate inside the walls of Stonebridge House.
I tried to get up a conversation with Flanagan, but he looked half- frightened and half guilty as I did so.
"I say," said I, "couldn't we open the window and let some fresh air in ?" (Mrs Hudson had always been strong on fresh air.) "Look-out, I say," said Flanagan, in a frightened whisper; "you'll get us all in a row!" "In a row ?" I replied.

"Who with ?" "Why, old Hen; but shut up, do you hear ?" and here he dipped his face in the basin, and so effectually ended the talk.
This was quite a revelation to me.

Get in a row with Miss Henniker for speaking to one of my schoolfellows in the dormitory! A lively prospect and no mistake.
Presently a bell rang, and we all wended our way down stairs into the parlour where I had yesterday enjoyed my _tete-a-tete_ with Miss Henniker.