“Get up, you grinning donkey!” said Salisbury, who, in spite of his wrath, could not help laughing.
“Trevannion's legs!” exclaimed Frank, in a choking fit of laughter.
“Get up, Digby,” exclaimed Trevannion, kicking him; “or I'll shake some of this nonsense out of you.”
“Do be rational, Frank,” said Hamilton's voice from a corner; “you are like a great baby.”
How long Frank might have sat on the floor, and what direful events might have transpired, I cannot pretend to say, for just at this juncture the further door opened, and Dr. Wilkinson entered, bearing a candle in his hand. Frank very speedily found his legs, and retired into a corner to giggle unseen. The light thus suddenly introduced brought Reginald and his brother into notice, and one or two near the door recognizing them, pressed forward to speak to them, and before the doctor had fairly attained his place, Reginald had run the gauntlet of welcomes through all his school-fellows—and Louis, half-way on the same errand, was forcibly arrested by something scarcely short of an embrace from Hamilton, who expressed himself as surprised as pleased at his appearance, and in whose glistening eyes, as well as the friendly looks of those around, Louis experienced some relief from the almost insupportable sense of dulness that had oppressed him ever since his entrance into the house. But now, the doctor having opened his book, the young gentlemen were obliged to separate and form into their places. Hamilton kept Louis by him, and Louis beckoned the sorrowful little boy who had accompanied him towards them.
“Who is that?” asked the doctor, as the child moved shyly towards Louis.
“A new boy, sir,” said one.
“What is your name?” said the doctor. “Come here. Oh! I see, it is Clifton, is it not?—how do you do?”
Charles had reached Dr. Wilkinson by this time, and, encouraged by his kind tone, and the sympathizing though slightly quizzical gaze on his very tearful face, replied to his queries in a low, quick tone.
“When did you come?” asked the doctor.