OF course that brought us into the drawing-room in double-quick time. Fee threw himself full-length on a lounge; Phil sat on a chair with his face to the back, which he hugged with both arms; I took the next chair,—the biggest in the room; and pulling over the piano stool, Nora seated herself on that, and swung from side to side as she spoke to the different ones.

For a minute she just sat and smiled at us without a word, until Phil said: "Well, fire away! We're all ears."

"Who do you think has been here to-day?" began Nora.

Phil rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and he and Felix both answered very solemnly, and at the same moment:—

"The Tsar!"

"The President!"

"Don't be silly!" said Nora, with dignity; then, "I suppose I might as well tell you at once, for you never could guess,—aunt Lindsay!"

"No!" "Jinks!" "We saw her!" exclaimed Felix, Phil, and I.

"Yes," said Nora, swinging herself slowly from side to side, and enjoying our surprise. "And what do you suppose she came for?" Then, interrupting herself, "But there! I'll begin at the very beginning; that will be the best. Well, I had just told Dr. Archard good-bye—by the way, he says nurse will be all right by to-morrow—and come in here for a minute, when the bell rang, and Hannah ushered an old lady into the room. Of course I knew at once that it was aunt Lindsay, though I hadn't seen her for a long time; and I welcomed her as warmly as I could, feeling as I did about the children,—I didn't tell her anything about them, though,—and asked her to take off her things. But she said she could only stay a very short time, and asked to see 'Nancy' and Felix.

"She sat in the chair you are in, Jack,"—Nora turned to me,—"and as she's very small, she looked about as lost in it as you do. When I said that Felix was out, and Nannie away in the Adirondacks with papa, she looked so disappointed. 'I knew your father was there,' she said, 'but he did not mention that Nancy was with him. And so Felix is out! H'm, sorry for that. Good children, good children, both of them!'"

"Doesn't know you, old man, does she?" put in Phil; and then he and Felix grinned.

"Well," continued Nora, "she said she couldn't stay for lunch, but I got her to loosen her bonnet strings and take a cup of tea and some crackers. While she sipped her tea she said: 'I am en route for my usual summer resort, and have come a good deal out of my way to see my godchildren. It is a disappointment not to meet them; but if Nancy is with her sick father, she is doing her duty.' Then she asked about you, Fee; your health particularly. After I had told her that you were as well as usual, and as fond of study as ever, then she told me what she had come on from Boston for. Felix, she knows all about your disappointment in not going to college last fall,—who do you suppose could have told her?—and she says—" Nora stopped and looked at us with a teasing smile.

Fee was sitting up, and we were all leaning forward, eager for the rest of the story.

"Oh, go on!" cried Fee, quickly.

"Yes, out with it!" chimed in Phil.

"She says," went on Nora, slowly, lingering over each word, "that you are to prepare yourself for examination to enter Columbia in the fall, and she will see you through the college course. These are her very words: 'Tell Felix that his father has consented that I shall have the great pleasure and happiness of putting him through college. I wanted to do it last fall, but Jack would not listen to it then. Tell the boy that I shall enjoy doing this, and that he will hear from me about the last of August.' Oh, Felix, isn't it splendid?"

"Perfectly immense—immense!" exclaimed Phil, landing on his feet in great excitement. "Why, it's the jolliest, the very best, the finest piece of good news that I could hear—simply huge! Blessed old dame! She's given me the wish of my heart! Hurrah, old chappie! after all we'll be at college together! Oo-h-ie!" And he threw his arms right round Felix and just hugged him.

Fee's eyes were wide open, and so bright! they shone right through his glasses; he leaned forward and looked anxiously from one to the other of us, his hands opening and shutting nervously on his knees as he spoke. "Are you sure about this?" he asked wistfully; "because I've dreamed this sort of thing sometimes, and—and—the awakening always upsets me for a day or two."

"Why, certainly we're sure!" cried Nora. "Dead sure!" answered Phil, emphatically; and Nora added reproachfully: "Why, Felix! aren't you glad? I thought you'd be delighted."

"Glad?" echoed Fee, "glad? why, I'm—" His voice failed, and turning hurriedly from us, he buried his face in the sofa cushions.

All this time I hadn't said a word; I really couldn't. You see, ever since I've been a choir boy, I've saved all the money that's been paid me for singing, so's to get enough to send Fee to college. Betty didn't think much of my scheme: she said 'twould take such a long while before I could get even half the amount; but still I kept on saving for it,—I haven't spent a penny of my salary,—and you've no idea how full the bank was, and heavy! I've just hugged the little iron box sometimes, when I thought of what that money would do for Fee; and for a few minutes after I heard Nora's story I was so disappointed that I couldn't congratulate him.

Then, all at once, it came over me like a rush how mean I was to want Felix to wait such a long time for me to do this for him, when, through aunt Lindsay's kindness, he could go to college right away. I got awfully ashamed, and going quickly over to Fee's side, I knelt down by him and threw my arm over his shoulder. "Fee," I said,—he still had his face in the cushions,—"I'm very, very, very glad you are to go to college this fall,—really and truly I am, Fee."

I didn't see anything funny about this, but Phil and Nora began to laugh, and, sitting up, Felix said, smiling, "Why, I know you are, Jacqueminot; I never doubted it for a moment. And by and by, when Phil and I are staid old seniors, your turn will come,—we'll see to that." Then, looking round at us, he went on, speaking rapidly, excitedly: "At last it has come, and when I least expected it—when I had given up all hope. I can hardly believe it! Now I shall go in for the hardest sort of hard work, for I've great things to accomplish. Don't think I'm conceited, but I'm going to try for all the honours that a fellow can; and I'll get them, too—I'll get them; I must! I promised—her—" He broke off abruptly and turned away, then presently added in a lighter tone: "I must write to my twinnie to-night,—how delighted she will be! Oh, I tell you, you don't any of you know what this is to me!—but there, I can't talk of it. Let's have some fun. What shall we do to celebrate the occasion? Play something lively, Nora; we'll have a musicale."

He stood up, and as Nora ran to the piano and struck up a waltz, Phil caught Fee round the waist and danced off with him.

But before they had turned twice round, Fee was in a chair, holding on to his back, and laughing at Phil's grumbling protest. "I never was much on dancing, you know," he said. "Here, take Rosebud; he'll trip the light fantastic toe with you as long as you like."

So Phil finished the waltz with me, but I didn't enjoy it; Phil is so tall, and he grips a person so tight, that half the time my feet were clear off the floor and sticking straight out; and he went so fast that I got dizzy.

Well, we had a jolly evening. After the dance, Fee didn't move about very much, but he was just as funny and bright as he could be; Nora was nicer, too, than I've ever known her; and as for Phil, he was perfectly wild with good spirits. He danced,—alone when he couldn't get anybody for a partner,—and sang, and talked, and joked, and kept us in a roar of laughter until bedtime.

"Well," said Nora, as we stood together by the drawing-room door for a few minutes before going upstairs, "I thought this morning that this was going to be a black day,—one of the days when everything goes wrong,—and yet see how pleasantly it has ended."

"It has been a great day for me," said Fee, slowly. "I don't mind telling you people, now, that that disappointment in the fall took the heart and interest all out of my studies; but now"—he straightened himself up, and his voice rang out—"now I have hope again, and courage, and you'll see what I can do. Thanks don't express my feelings; I'm more than thankful to aunt Lindsay!"

"So 'm I," I piped up, and I meant that; I was beginning to feel better about it.

"Thankful, more thankful, most thankful," Phil said, pointing his finger at Nora, then at me, then at Felix; "and here am I, the 'thankfullest' of all."

There was a break in his voice that surprised us; and to cover it up, he began some more of his nonsense. "High time for us—the pater's little infants—to be a-bed," he said, laughing. "Come, Mr. Boffin, make your adieux and prepare to leave

And suddenly, catching Fee in his arms, he ran lightly up the stairs with him, calling back to us: "'Good-night, ladies! good-night, ladies! good-night, ladies! I'm going to leave you now!'"

XVIII.