“Oh, your manner of speaking the words, of course. I would not comment on what I have seen him do.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“No, indeed.”
“Sometimes our ears deceive us,” said Bart; “but I fancied I did hear you—never mind that.”
He broke off abruptly, but he had informed Darleton that his words, spoken when he first appeared on the scene, had been overheard.
Darleton shrugged his shoulders, a gesture he had caught from his French instructor.
“Fancy leads us into grave mistakes at times,” he said. “It should not be permitted to run away with us. Now, I have known fellows who fancied they could fence, but very few of them have been able to make much of a go at it.”
This was a sly thrust at Merry. Frank looked pleasant and nodded.
“I have even known instructors to be deceived in the skill of their pupils,” he remarked, reaching home and scoring heavily.
This reply brought the blood flashing once more to Darleton’s cheeks.