Wilton School | Page 3

for Plymouth in the "Thunderer." And so it came to pass, that after
many such changes of abode, and many voyages over the dangerous
waters, twelve years from the date of their marriage, they came to
Wilton. They found lodgings at Mrs Valentine's farm, near the old
church--a strange contrast after the home on the blue waters of the
Mediterranean, but a very nice contrast withal. And it seemed, at last,
as if poor Mrs Campbell had found a climate that suited her, and that
put new life and strength into her failing, fragile form. For those happy
and treacherous nights, spent in looking over the bay at Malta for her
husband's home-coming, had sown the seeds of a consumption, that
each month now seemed to be increasing its wasting, rapid strides.
Yet at Wilton she seemed revived and better than she had been for long;
and Alan grew more cheerful and hopeful that, if God pleased, her life,
with care and watching, might be spared. So he took rooms at the farm
for a length of time; sent his boy, now grown into a young image of his

stout father, to a grammar-school in the village, and determined that, as
the place agreed with her so well, Minnie should make it her home,
even when he went to sea.
And once more their happiness lost the cloud of doubt and anxiety that
for long had been hanging over it. But the dream was soon to be snapt.
One evening Alan came home to find his wife much worse than she had
ever been. He learnt the cause. She had been sitting with a sick person,
and from the hot, sickroom had passed out into the damp evening air.
And this was the result.
The village-doctor was sent for at once; and when, on the next morning,
Alan anxiously, tremblingly, asked him the candid truth, it was with an
open letter in his hand, with which his fingers nervously played. It was
marked "On Her Majesty's Service." He must hold himself in readiness
to sail within a fortnight. And the doctor's answer was a fearful
crowning to this unexpected tidings.
"She may linger on for a month," he said, "six weeks at most. You will
have to bid her good-bye for ever when you go. No skill can make her
live till you come home."
Alan never uttered a word, but his face was very pale, and a great
shudder passed over his frame.
"It is very, very sad for you," said the little doctor, "I pity you from my
heart." And then he jolted away down the lane in his shaky trap, drawn
by his broken-winded pony.
And Alan turned into the farm, and was soon by his wife's side.
So the fortnight passed, and the good-bye was said; and this is why that
good-bye was so unutterably sad; and this is all that Harry could not
understand.
CHAPTER III.

SAD INFORMATION.
Mother and son--Returning fortitude--Self-devoted.
It was drawing close upon the half-yearly examination at the Grammar
School, and Harry was beginning to grow very frightened and nervous,
for a new boy had been put into his class since the last examination,
and he feared the newcomer would supplant him, and get to the head.
So, as soon as the sad good-bye, told of in the first chapter of this little
tale, was said, and Harry had tried in vain to comfort his mother, he got
his books and set to work. And the clock ticked, and Harry pored over
his delectus; and in the corner Mrs Campbell sat and wept.
Presently she called Harry to her.
"Harry, dear, I am better now; I won't cry any more. Come and sit by
me."
And so Harry went. And then she talked quietly to him about his work
at school, and how she hoped that one day he would be able to go to
Oxford. It was well for her, poor thing, she had these little makeshifts
for conversation. That which lay nearest her heart, was now too much
well-nigh for words to express.
"You are young now, dear boy, but still old enough to know that your
after-life depends on yourself; and if you work steadily on, you can win
a scholarship."
"What is a scholarship, mamma?"
"A sum of money, dear, which is allowed you every year while you are
at Oxford, to help to pay your expenses. Because, you know, papa
couldn't afford to pay all the money it would cost while you were
there."
"And why couldn't you pay it, mamma?"
"I shall not be here then, dear boy," said Mrs Campbell, very softly.

"But you will be wherever I am, mamma."
"I shall be sleeping in the churchyard, darling boy; over yonder, under
the tall, grey tower."
Harry