“Stagg. It is over a little grocery shop. You must ask for Percy Stagg.”
Perhaps Armine suspected the motive to be his own good, for he took a dislike to the idea at once.
“Percy Stagg!” he began, as soon as Mr. Ogilvie was gone. “What a detestable conjunction, just showing what the fellow must be. And to have him on my hands.”
“I thought you liked teaching?” said his mother.
“As if this would be like a Woodside boy!”
“Yes,” said Babie; “I don’t suppose he will carry onions and lollipops in his pockets, nor put cockchafers down on one’s book.”
“Babie, that was only Ted Stokes!”
“And I should think he might have rather cleaner hands, and not leave their traces on every book.”
“He’ll do worse!” said Armine. “He will be vulgarly stuck up, and excruciate me with every French word he attempts to pronounce.”
“But you’ll do it, Armie?” said his mother.