It was with satisfaction that Westby and Carroll saw Lawrence entering the dining-room with Irving. They had observed the long table spread in the common room of the Upper School, where the visiting team were to be entertained at luncheon, and had supposed therefore that they would have no chance of satisfying their curiosity about the master’s brother.
When Irving introduced Lawrence to them, Westby said,—
“We hoped we were going to see you here, but we were afraid you might have to eat outside with your team.”
“Oh, I got special permission from the captain for this occasion,” said Lawrence. “I’m afraid I’m depriving somebody of his seat,” he added to Irving.
“It’s Caldwell—I arranged with him about it. He’s gone to Mr. Randolph’s table.”
“Besides, he’s only a Fourth Former,” said Westby.
Lawrence laughed. “You’re Sixth, I suppose?” Westby nodded. “Going to Harvard next year?”
“Yes.”
“Good for you. I’ll tell you one thing; you couldn’t have a better man to get you in than this brother of mine—if I do say it. He tutored me for Harvard—and I guess you’ve never had a worse blockhead, have you, Irv?”
“Oh, you were all right in some things, Lawrence.”