were calmly passing, and Mrs. Raynor felt in spirits; for two more day-scholars had entered at the half-quarter, and another boarder was promised at Michaelmas. So that matters might be said to be progressing satisfactorily though monotonously. Monotony, however, does not suit young people, especially if they have been suddenly plunged into it. It did not suit Charles and Alice Raynor. Ever contrasting, as they were, the present enforced quiet and obscurity with the past life at Eagles' Nest, its show, society, and luxuries, no wonder that they felt well-nigh weary unto death. At first it was almost unbearable. But they could not help themselves: it had to be endured. Charles was worse off than Alice; she had her school duties to occupy her during the day; he had nothing. Colonel Cockburn had not yet returned to London, and Charles told himself and his mother that he must wait for him. As the weeks went on, some relief suggested itself from this

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