CHAPTER NINE.
BERNARD'S EXPERIMENT, BY ANON.
When the Headmaster sent for Gray Minor, on receipt of a telegram from his home, the boys were in great consternation, because they all regarded him as a "ripping good fellow." "I wonder what's up," said one, and this speech expressed the feeling of every boy.

Then Gray Minor appeared, white, but determined, and told them that, his widowed Mother being suddenly ruined, he would have to leave the school at once.
"I say, Gray, you're such a chap for experiment, perhaps you'll see your way out of this fix; but, all the same, it's jolly hard lines on you," said his greatest chum, wringing Gray's hand.

The boys expressed their grief in different ways, but each was equally sincere, and Gray Minor departed, universally regretted.
Mrs Gray sat by the fire of the little cottage parlour, a black-edged letter lying idly between her fingers.

Very pale, she had the appearance of one who had passed many sleepless nights.

Outside, the November sky was overcast, the rain was coming down in torrents, and sad-looking people picked their way down the muddy lane under streaming umbrellas to the railway-station.
Suddenly, a quick, firm footstep sounded on the little garden path, and a boy's round face smiled in at the diamond-paned window like a ray of bright sunshine.