“There isn’t much to do in the way of sports,” David admitted. “Yes, it does get tiresome.”
“Father says that there’s always more disorder just before the spring vacation than at any other time—and less studying. Just think of Lester Wallace. I wanted to see him win in the gymnasium exhibition—and the foolish boy got into trouble instead.”
“Yes, it was too bad.”
“I scolded him for it, and he tried to lay the blame on Mr. Dean. But it was too silly! He seemed to think that you and Mr. Dean were under some obligation to put him through!”
David’s face clouded over. “I don’t know about Mr. Dean, but I feel under such an obligation. Only it hasn’t seemed as if Lester wanted my help.”
“He oughtn’t to want it. I’m disappointed in him. I told him so right out.”
She sat up straight with her lips firmly together and her cheeks flushed; David, glancing at her, decided that he should dislike very much hearing from her that she was disappointed in him.
“I told him,” she went on, “that he was getting dependent on everybody but himself, and that if he had any proper spirit he wouldn’t accept help now from any one. And he got sarcastic at that and thanked me for my helpful advice and said that he could get along very well without any more of it. Since then we’re very cool to each other.”
“That’s the way it is with Lester and me,” said David. “I dare say I’ve given him too much helpful advice, too.”
“Anyway, he’ll have a good chance to come to his senses during the spring vacation. You will probably be going home with him, won’t you?”