“Do I know? Know what?” cried Alfred, trying to arouse himself out of a revery.
“Do you know that Inch-o'-brogue has not left me five shillings out of my last quarter's allowance?” said the boy.
“You must pay for your education, my lad,” said O'Shea. “I did n't get mine for nothing. Layton there can teach you longs and shorts, to scribble nonsense-verses, and the like; but for the real science of life, 'how to do them as has done you,' you must come to fellows like me.”
“Yes, there is much truth in that,” said Layton, who, not having heard one word the other had spoken, corroborated all of it, out of pure distraction of mind.
The absurdity was too strong for Agincourt and O'Shea, and they both laughed out. “Come,” said O'Shea, slapping Layton on the shoulder, “wake up, and roll the balls about. I 'll play you your own game, and give you five-and-twenty odds. There's a sporting offer!”
“Make it to me,” broke in Agincourt.
“So I would, if you weren't pumped out, my noble Marquis.”
“And could you really bring yourself to win a boy's pocket-money,—a mere boy?” said Layton, now suddenly aroused to full consciousness, and coming so close to O'Shea as to be inaudible to the other.
“Smallest contributions thankfully received, is my motto,” said O'Shea. “Not but, as a matter of education, the youth has gained a deuced sight more from me than you!”
“The reproach is just,” said Layton, bitterly. “I have neglected my trust,—grossly neglected it,—and in nothing more than suffering him to keep your company.”