"Well, that will be all the better for you, won't it?" inquired Betty, unmoved at the awful announcement.
"I don't know. I haven't thought of that yet," Lucius admitted. "But I'm afraid it will kill the poor old governor. I shall go and see him when I get back. I'm awfully sorry for him, although he has been so tiresome. But don't let's talk any more about it. We're nearly there. I say, Betty——"
"I think you'd better go back now," said Betty. "You've come quite far enough," and Lucius was not bold enough to disobey her.
He found Mr. Binney just returned from his visit to his Tutor. "It's all over, Lucius. I'm sent down," he said hopelessly.
Lucius was at a loss for words. The humour of the situation suddenly struck him, and he had hard work to prevent himself smiling.
"I've been a bad father to you, my boy," went on Mr. Binney. "I see it all now. I wish I had behaved differently. But it is too late. All is over. The blow has fallen. I am a disgraced man."
"Oh, come, cheer up, father," said Lucius. "I should think they would give you another show if you promise to keep quiet in future."
"No, they won't," said Mr. Binney. "They think I am spoiling your chances at Cambridge. And they are quite right—oh, absolutely right."
"What nonsense," said Lucius. "Is it only on my account they have sent you down?"
"That chiefly," said Mr. Binney, with the calm voice of despair. "But they have lost faith in me. And quite right too. Oh, quite right."