St. Winifred's; or, The World of School

by F. W. Farrar

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

  A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP.

  Everard, Everard, which was the truest, God in the future, and Time will show, Ne'er will I stoop to defence or excuses-- If you despise me--be it so! But, my Everard, still (for I love you) This to the end my prayer shall be-- Ne'er may you be so sternly treated, Never be judged as you judge me.--F.

  Kenrick did not happen to meet Walter during the remainder of thatSunday, because Walter was chiefly sitting in Mr Percival's room, butthe next day, still nursing the smouldering fire of his anger, hedetermined to get the first opportunity he could of meeting him, inorder that he might tax him with his supposed false friendship andbreach of confidence.

  Accordingly, when school was over next day, he went with Whalley to lookfor him in the playground. Walter was walking with Henderson, neverdreaming that anything unpleasant was likely to happen. Henderson wasthe first to catch sight of them, and as he never saw Whalley withoutchaffing him in some ridiculous way or other--for Whalley's charminggood humour made him a capital subject for a joke--he at once began, asmight have been expected, to sing--

  "O Whalley, Whalley up the bank, And Whalley, Whalley down the brae, And Whalley, Whalley, by yon burnside--"

  whereupon his song was interrupted by Whalley's giving chase to him,which did not end till he had been led a dance half round the schoolbuildings, while the ground was left clear for Kenrick's expostulations.

  Walter came up to him as cordially as usual, but stopped short insurprise, when he caught the scornful lowering expression of hisfriend's face; but as Kenrick did not speak at once, he took him by thehand, 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 ofthe 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 onlymentioned it to--"

  "That's enough, thank you. I don't want to hear any more. I don't wantto 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 layinghis hand on his shoulder.

  "My name's Kenrick," said he, shaking off Walter's hand. "You mayapologise 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 theschool. And it's not the `only' time you've behaved dishonourably."

  "I don't understand you," said Walter, who was rapidly getting into asgreat a passion as Kenrick.

  "Betraying confidence is _almost_ as bad as breaking open desks, andburning--" Such a taunt, coming from Kenrick, was base and cruel, and heknew it to be so.

  "Thank you for the allusion," said Walter; "I deserve it, I own, but I'msurprised, Kenrick, that _you_, of all others; should make it. _That_,I admit, was an act of sin and strange folly for which I must alwaysfeel humiliated, and implore to be forgiven. And every generous person_has_ long ago forgiven me and forgotten it. But in _this_ case, if youweren't in such a silly rage, I could show you that I've done nothingwrong. Only I know you wouldn't listen _now_, and I shan'tcondescend--"

  "_Condescend_! I like that," said Kenrick, interrupting him with ascornful laugh, which made Walter's blood tingle. "_You_ condescend to_me_, forsooth." Higher words might have ensued, but at this momentHenderson, still pursued by Whalley, came running up, and seeing thatsomething 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 offabruptly.

  "He's very angry with you, Evson," said Whalley, "because he thinksyou've been telling Jones and that lot his family secrets."

  "I've done nothing whatever of the kind," said Walter, indignantly. "Iadmit that I did thoughtlessly mention it to Power; and one otheroverheard me. It never occurred to me for a moment that Kenrick wouldmind. You know I wouldn't dream of speaking about it ill-naturedly, andif that fellow wasn't blind with rage I could have explained it to himin about five minutes."

  "If you merely mentioned it to Power, I'm sure Kenrick would not so muchmind. I'll tell him about it when he's cooler," said Whalley.

  "As you like, Whalley; Kenrick has no business to suspect me in thatshameful way, and to abuse me, and treat me as if I was quite beneathhis notice, and cast old faults in my teeth," answered Walter, with deepvexation. "Let him find out the truth for himself. He can, if he takesthe trouble."

  Both the friends were thoroughly angry with each other; each of themimagined himself deeply wronged by the other, and each of them, in hisirritation, used strong and unguarded expressions which lost nothing byrepetition. Thus the "rift of difference" was cleft deeper and deeperbetween them; and, chiefly through Kenrick's pride and precipitancy, adisagreement which might at first have been easily adjusted became aserious, and threatened to become a permanent, quarrel.

  "Power, did you repeat what I told you about Kenrick to any one?" askedWalter, next time he met him.

  "Repeat it?" said Power; "why, Walter, do you suppose I would? What doyou take me for?"

  "All right, Power; I know that you couldn't do such a thing; but Kenrickdeclares I've spread it all over the school, and has just been abusingme like a pickpocket." Walter told him the circumstances of the case,and Power, displeased for Walter's sake, and sorry that two real friendsshould be separated by what he could not but regard as a venial error onWalter's part, advised him to write a note to Kenrick and explain thetrue facts of the case again.

  "But what's the use, Power?" said Walter; "he would not listen to myexplanation, and said as many hard things of me as he could."

  "Yes, in a passion. He'll be sorry for them directly he's calm; for youknow 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, andgave it to Whalley to give to Kenrick next time he saw him. It ran asfollows:--

  "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 theearliest occasion, and "make it up" with him in the sincerest andheartiest way he could. But suddenly the sight of Jones and Mackworthvividly reminded his proud and sensitive nature of the scene that hadcaused him such acute pain. He did not see how Jones _could_ havelearnt about the vehicle, at any rate, without Walter having laughedover it to some one. Instead of seeking further explanation, orthinking no evil and hoping all things, he again gave reins to his angerand 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 passed 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 gavehim Kenrick's note he tore it open eagerly, anticipating a frank renewalof their former friendship; but a red spot rose to his cheeks as he sawthe insinuation that he had not told the whole truth, and as he tore upthe note, he indignantly determined to take no further step towards areconciliation.

  Yet as he thought how many pleasant hours they had spent together, andhow firmly on the whole Kenrick had stood by him in his troubles, andhow lovable a boy he really was, Walter could not but grieve over thisdifference. He found himself often yearning to be on the old terms withKenrick; he felt that at heart he still loved him well; and after a fewdays 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 passingbetween them he did not entrust this note to any one, but himself placedit between the leaves of an Herodotus which he knew that Kenrick woulduse at the next school. He had barely put it there when a boy whowanted an Herodotus happened to come into the classroom, and seeingKenrick's lying on the table, coolly walked off with it, after themanner of boys, regardless of the inconvenience to which the owner mightbe put. As this boy was reading a different part of Herodotus from thatwhich Kenrick was reading, Walter's note lay between the leaves where ithad been placed, unnoticed. When the book was done with, the boy forgotit, and left it in school, where, after kicking about for some daysunowned, it was consigned, with other stray volumes, to a miscellaneouscupboard, where it lay undisturbed for years. Kenrick supposed that itwas lost, or that some one had "bagged" it; and, unknown to Walter, hisnote never reached the hands for which it had been destined. In vain hewaited for a reply; in vain he looked for some word or sign to show thatKenrick had received his letter. But Kenrick still met him in perfectsilence, and with averted looks; and Walter, surprised at his obstinateunkindness, thought that he _could_ do nothing more to disabuse him ofhis false impression, and was the more ready to forego a friendshipwhich by every honourable means he had endeavoured to retain.

  Poor Kenrick! he felt as much as Walter did that he had lost one of histruest and most pleasant friends, and he, too, often yearned for the oldintercourse between them. Even his best friends, Power, Henderson, andWhalley, all thought him wrong; and in consequence a coolness rosebetween them and him. He felt thoroughly miserable, and did not knowwhere to turn; yet none the less he ostentatiously abstained from makingthe slightest overture to Walter; and whereas the two boys might haveenjoyed together many happy hours, they felt a continual embarrassmentat being obliged to meet each other very frequently in awkward silence,and apparent unconsciousness of each other's presence. This silentannoyance recurred continually at all hours of the day. They threw awaythe golden opportunity of smoothing and brightening for each other theirschoolboy years. It is sad that since true friends are so few, suchslight differences, such trivial misunderstandings, should separate themfor 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 _thelast_ to forgive and to forget. Too often they do not condone the faulttill years of unhappiness and disappointment have intervened; till thewounds which they have inflicted are cicatrised; till the sinner'sloneliness has taught him to look for other than human sympathy; till heis too old, too sorrowful, too heartbroken, too near the Great WhiteThrone, to expect any joy from human friendship, or any consolation inhuman love.

  Twice did chance throw the friends into situations in which areconciliation would have been easy. Once, when the school wasassembled to hear the result of some composition prizes, they foundthemselves accidentally seated, one on each side of Power. The mottoeson the envelopes which were sent in with the successful exercises werealways read out before the envelope was opened, and in one of the prizesfor which there had been many competitors, 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, afterthanking 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; butjust at that moment Walter's attention happened to be attracted by Eden,who, though sitting some benches off, wished to telegraph hiscongratulations to Power. Unfortunately, therefore, Walter turned hishead away, before he knew that Kenrick's hand was actually touching his.He did not perceive Power's kind intention until the opportunity waslost; and Kenrick, misinterpreting his conduct, had flushed with suddenpride, and hastily withdrawn his hand. On the second occasion Walterhad gone up the hill to the churchyard, by the side of which was apleasant stile, overshadowed by aged elms, on which he often sat readingor enjoying the breeze and the view. It suddenly occurred to him thathe would look at Daubeny's grave, to see if the stone had yet been putup. He found that it had just been raised, and he was sorrowfullyreading the inscription, when a footstep roused him from his mournfulrecollections. A glance showed him that Kenrick was approaching,evidently with the same purpose. He came slowly to the grave and readthe epitaph. Their eyes met in a friendly gaze. A sudden impulse toreconciliation seized them both, and they were on the verge of shakinghands, when three boys came sauntering through the churchyard--one ofthem was the ill-omened Jones. The association jarred on both theirminds, and turning away without a word they walked home in differentdirections.