“Do you know where he is, please?”
“With the doctor,” replied the young gentleman.
“Oh dear!” sighed the little boy, venturing to approach the table a little nearer.
“What's the matter with you?” asked Reginald.
“I can't do this,” said the child: “I wanted Edward to help me with my exercise.”
“My little dear, you have just heard that sapient Fred Salisbury declare, in the most civil terms chooseable, that your fraternal preceptor, Edwardus magnus, non est inventus,” said Frank, pompously, with a most condescending flourish of his person in the direction of the little boy.
“And, consequently,” said the afore-mentioned Mr. Salisbury, “you have free leave to migrate to York, Bath, Jericho, or any other equally convenient resort for bores in general, and you in particular.”
“Please, Mr. Digby,” said the little boy, “will you just show me this?”
“Indeed I can't,” said Frank; “I can't do my own, so in all reason you could not expect me to find brains for two exercises.”
“Oh! please somebody show me—Dr. Wilkinson will be so angry if Mr. Norton sends me up again to-morrow.”