“Will you go?” shouted Salisbury, with such deliberate energy of enunciation that Alfred shrunk back: “what's the use of your exercises, if you're shown how to do them?”
“Come here, Alfred,” said Louis, softly. Alfred readily obeyed; and Louis, taking his book, began to show him what to do.
“Louis, you must not tell him word for word,” said Reginald: “Hamilton wouldn't like it—he never does himself.”
“But I may help him to do it for himself, may I not?” said Louis.
“Yes; but, Louis, you have not time—and he is so stupid,” replied Reginald; “you won't have time to do your own.”
But Louis thought he should have time for both, and, putting his arm round Alfred, he kindly and patiently set him in the way of doing his lesson properly, and then resumed his own disturbed studies.
Hardly, however, was he settled than he found himself listening to Frank, who remarked, as Alfred left the room, “We shall be sure to have ‘Oars’ in soon!”
“Who do you mean by Oars?” asked Louis.
“Churchill,” said Reginald, laughing.
“What an extraordinary name!” said Louis.