one
o'clock
Nerving himself to the effort , he turned his face towards Harton , and walked slowly up the hill . The reminiscences which the walk recalled were not happy -- rather , far from happy . It was not because formerly when he was a flattered , and rich , and handsome , and popular Harton boy , all the prospects of his life had looked as bright as now they seemed full of gloom ; it was not that then both his parents were living , and now one was dead , the other disgraced ; it was not that then he was full of health and vigour , and now was feeble and wearied ; it was not that then he seemed to have many friends , and now he hardly knew of one ; no , it was none of these things that affected him most deeply as he caught sight of the well-known chapel , and strolled up the familiar hill ; but it was the thought , the bitter thought , the cursed thought that there , as at Camford , _ the voice of his brother 's blood was crying against htm from the ground _ . By the time he reached the school buildings , it happened to be just one o'clock , and from the various school-rooms , the boys were pouring out in gay and noisy throngs . The faces were new to him for the most part , and at first he began to fancy that he should recognise no one . But at last he observed a boy looking hard at him , who at length came up and shook him warmly by the hand . `` How do you do , Bruce ?