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Walter came up to him as cordially as usual, but stopped short in surprise, when he caught the scornful lowering expression of his friend's face; but as Kenrick did not speak at once, he took him by the hand, and said, "Why, Ken, what's the matter?"
Kenrick very coldly withdrew his hand.
"Evson, I came to ask you if--whether--if you've been telling to any of the fellows all about me; all I told you about my father?"
As Walter instantly remembered that he had mentioned the story to Power, he could not at once say "No," but was about to explain.
"Telling any of the fellows all about you and your father?" he repeated; "I didn't know--"
"Please, I don't want any excuses. If you haven't, it's easy to say 'No'; if you _have_, I only want you to say 'Yes.'"
"But you never told me that I wasn't to--"
"Yes or no?" said Kenrick, with an impatient gesture.
"Well, I suppose I must say 'Yes,' then; but hear me explain. I only mentioned it to--"
"That's enough, thank you. I don't want to hear any more. I don't want to know whom you mentioned it to;" and Kenrick turned short on his heel, and began to walk off.
"But hear me, Ken," said Walter eagerly, walking after him, and laying his hand on his shoulder.
"My name's Kenrick," said he, shaking off Walter's hand. "You may apologise if you like; but even then I shan't speak to you again."
"I have nothing to apologise for. I only told--"
"I tell you I don't care whom you 'only' told. It's 'only' all over the school. And it's not the 'only' time you've behaved dishonourably."
"I don't understand you," said Walter, who was rapidly getting into as great a pa.s.sion as Kenrick.
"Betraying confidence is _almost_ as bad as breaking open desks, and burning--" Such a taunt, coming from Kenrick, was base and cruel, and he knew it to be so.
"Thank you for the allusion," said Walter; "I deserve it, I own, but I'm surprised, Kenrick, that _you_, of all others; should make it. _That_, I admit, was an act of sin and strange folly for which I must always feel humiliated, and implore to be forgiven. And every generous person _has_ long ago forgiven me and forgotten it. But in _this_ case, if you weren't in such a silly rage, I could show you that I've done nothing wrong. Only I know you wouldn't listen _now_, and I shan't condescend--"
"_Condescend_! I like that," said Kenrick, interrupting him with a scornful laugh, which made Walter's blood tingle. "_You_ condescend to _me_, forsooth." Higher words might have ensued, but at this moment Henderson, still pursued by Whalley, came running up, and seeing that something had gone wrong, he said to Kenrick--
"Hallo, Damon! what has Pythias been saying to you?"
Kenrick vouchsafed no answer, but turning his back on them, went off abruptly.
"He's very angry with you, Evson," said Whalley, "because he thinks you've been telling Jones and that lot his family secrets."
"I've done nothing whatever of the kind," said Walter, indignantly. "I admit that I did thoughtlessly mention it to Power; and one other overheard me. It never occurred to me for a moment that Kenrick would mind. You know I wouldn't dream of speaking about it ill-naturedly, and if that fellow wasn't blind with rage I could have explained it to him in about five minutes."
"If you merely mentioned it to Power, I'm sure Kenrick would not so much mind. I'll tell him about it when he's cooler," said Whalley.
"As you like, Whalley; Kenrick has no business to suspect me in that shameful way, and to abuse me, and treat me as if I was quite beneath his notice, and cast old faults in my teeth," answered Walter, with deep vexation. "Let him find out the truth for himself. He can, if he takes the trouble."
Both the friends were thoroughly angry with each other; each of them imagined himself deeply wronged by the other, and each of them, in his irritation, used strong and unguarded expressions which lost nothing by repet.i.tion. Thus the "rift of difference" was cleft deeper and deeper between them; and, chiefly through Kenrick's pride and precipitancy, a disagreement which might at first have been easily adjusted became a serious, and threatened to become a permanent, quarrel.
"Power, did you repeat what I told you about Kenrick to any one?" asked Walter, next time he met him.
"Repeat it?" said Power; "why, Walter, do you suppose I would? What do you take me for?"
"All right, Power; I know that you couldn't do such a thing; but Kenrick declares I've spread it all over the school, and has just been abusing me like a pickpocket." Walter told him the circ.u.mstances of the case, and Power, displeased for Walter's sake, and sorry that two real friends should be separated by what he could not but regard as a venial error on Walter's part, advised him to write a note to Kenrick and explain the true facts of the case again.
"But what's the use, Power?" said Walter; "he would not listen to my explanation, and said as many hard things of me as he could."
"Yes, in a pa.s.sion. He'll be sorry for them directly he's calm; for you know what a generous fellow he is. You can forgive them, I'm sure, Walter, and win the pleasure of being the first to make an advance."
Walter, after a little struggle with his resentment, wrote a note, and gave it to Whalley to give to Kenrick next time he saw him. It ran as follows:--
"My dear Kenrick,--I think you are a little hard upon me. Who can have told Jones anything about you and your home secrets I don't know.
He _could_ not have learnt them through me. It's true I did mention something about your father to Power when I was talking in the most affectionate way about you. I'm very sorry for this, but I never dreamt it would make you so angry. Power is the last person to repeat such a thing. Pray forgive me, and believe me always to be--
"Your affectionate friend, Walter Evson."
Kenrick's first impulse on receiving this note was to seek Walter on the earliest occasion, and "make it up" with him in the sincerest and heartiest way he could. But suddenly the sight of Jones and Mackworth vividly reminded his proud and sensitive nature of the scene that had caused him such acute pain. He did not see how Jones _could_ have learnt about the vehicle, at any rate, without Walter having laughed over it to some one. Instead of seeking further explanation, or thinking no evil and hoping all things, he again gave reins to his anger and suspicion, and wrote:--
"I am bound to believe your explanation as far as it goes. But I have reason to _know_ that _something_ more must have pa.s.sed than what you admit yourself to have said. I am astonished that you should have treated me so unworthily. I would not have done so to you. I will try to forget this unpleasant business; but it is only in a sense that I can sign myself again.
"Your affectionate friend. H. Kenrick."
Walter had not expected this cold, ungracious reply. When Whalley gave him Kenrick's note he tore it open eagerly, antic.i.p.ating a frank renewal of their former friends.h.i.+p; but a red spot rose to his cheeks as he saw the insinuation that he had not told the whole truth, and as he tore up the note, he indignantly determined to take no further step towards a reconciliation.
Yet as he thought how many pleasant hours they had spent together, and how firmly on the whole Kenrick had stood by him in his troubles, and how lovable a boy he really was, Walter could not but grieve over this difference. He found himself often yearning to be on the old terms with Kenrick; he felt that at heart he still loved him well; and after a few days he again stifled all pride, and wrote:--
"Dear Ken,--Is it possible that you will not believe my word? If you still feel any doubt about what I have said, do come and see me in Power's study. I am sure that I would convince you in five minutes that you must be under some mistake; and if I have done you any wrong, or if you _think_ that I have done you any wrong, Ken, I'll apologise sincerely without any pride or reserve. I miss your society very much, and I still am and shall be, whatever you may think and whatever you may say of me.--Yours affectionately, W.E."
As he naturally did not wish any third person to know what was pa.s.sing between them he did not entrust this note to any one, but himself placed it between the leaves of an Herodotus which he knew that Kenrick would use at the next school. He had barely put it there when a boy who wanted an Herodotus happened to come into the cla.s.sroom, and seeing Kenrick's lying on the table, coolly walked off with it, after the manner of boys, regardless of the inconvenience to which the owner might be put. As this boy was reading a different part of Herodotus from that which Kenrick was reading, Walter's note lay between the leaves where it had been placed, unnoticed. When the book was done with, the boy forgot it, and left it in school, where, after kicking about for some days unowned, it was consigned, with other stray volumes, to a miscellaneous cupboard, where it lay undisturbed for years. Kenrick supposed that it was lost, or that some one had "bagged" it; and, unknown to Walter, his note never reached the hands for which it had been destined. In vain he waited for a reply; in vain he looked for some word or sign to show that Kenrick had received his letter. But Kenrick still met him in perfect silence, and with averted looks; and Walter, surprised at his obstinate unkindness, thought that he _could_ do nothing more to disabuse him of his false impression, and was the more ready to forego a friends.h.i.+p which by every honourable means he had endeavoured to retain.
Poor Kenrick! he felt as much as Walter did that he had lost one of his truest and most pleasant friends, and he, too, often yearned for the old intercourse between them. Even his best friends, Power, Henderson, and Whalley, all thought him wrong; and in consequence a coolness rose between them and him. He felt thoroughly miserable, and did not know where to turn; yet none the less he ostentatiously abstained from making the slightest overture to Walter; and whereas the two boys might have enjoyed together many happy hours, they felt a continual embarra.s.sment at being obliged to meet each other very frequently in awkward silence, and apparent unconsciousness of each other's presence. This silent annoyance recurred continually at all hours of the day. They threw away the golden opportunity of smoothing and brightening for each other their schoolboy years. It is sad that since true friends are so few, such slight differences, such trivial misunderstandings, should separate them for years. If a man's penitence for past follies be humble and sincere, his crimes and failings may well be buried in a generous oblivion; but, alas! his own friends, and they of his own household, are too often _the last_ to forgive and to forget. Too often they do not condone the fault till years of unhappiness and disappointment have intervened; till the wounds which they have inflicted are cicatrised; till the sinner's loneliness has taught him to look for other than human sympathy; till he is too old, too sorrowful, too heartbroken, too near the Great White Throne, to expect any joy from human friends.h.i.+p, or any consolation in human love.
Twice did chance throw the friends into situations in which a reconciliation would have been easy. Once, when the school was a.s.sembled to hear the result of some composition prizes, they found themselves accidentally seated, one on each side of Power. The mottoes on the envelopes which were sent in with the successful exercises were always read out before the envelope was opened, and in one of the prizes for which there had been many compet.i.tors, the punning motto, Ezousiazo, told them at once that Power had again achieved a brilliant success.
The Great Hall was always a scene for the triumphs of this happy boy.
Both Walter and Kenrick turned at the same moment to congratulate him, Walter seizing his right-hand and Kenrick his left. Power, after thanking them for their warm congratulations, grasped both their hands, and drew them towards each other. Kenrick was aware of what he meant, and his heart fluttered as he now hoped to regain a lost friend; but just at that moment Walter's attention happened to be attracted by Eden, who, though sitting some benches off, wished to telegraph his congratulations to Power. Unfortunately, therefore, Walter turned his head away, before he knew that Kenrick's hand was actually touching his.
He did not perceive Power's kind intention until the opportunity was lost; and Kenrick, misinterpreting his conduct, had flushed with sudden pride, and hastily withdrawn his hand. On the second occasion Walter had gone up the hill to the churchyard, by the side of which was a pleasant stile, overshadowed by aged elms, on which he often sat reading or enjoying the breeze and the view. It suddenly occurred to him that he would look at Daubeny's grave, to see if the stone had yet been put up. He found that it had just been raised, and he was sorrowfully reading the inscription, when a footstep roused him from his mournful recollections. A glance showed him that Kenrick was approaching, evidently with the same purpose. He came slowly to the grave and read the epitaph. Their eyes met in a friendly gaze. A sudden impulse to reconciliation seized them both, and they were on the verge of shaking hands, when three boys came sauntering through the churchyard--one of them was the ill-omened Jones. The a.s.sociation jarred on both their minds, and turning away without a word they walked home in different directions.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
EDEN'S TROUBLES.
Et tibi quae Samios diduxit littera ramos, Surgentem dextro monstravit limite callem.
Pers. three 56.
There has the Samian Y's instructive make, Pointed the road thy doubtful foot should take; There warned thy raw and yet unpractised youth, To tread the rising right-hand path of truth.