“You may have mine,” said Hamilton.
Louis stood still; he wanted the book very much, but was too proud to accept the offer.
“It is in my room,” continued Hamilton, without looking up.
“Thank you, I don't want yours,” replied Louis, proudly, walking out of the room.
As he entered the school-room he confronted Dr. Wilkinson, who, having given orders for a brisk walk, was inquiring for Hamilton. Louis had scarcely taken his hand from the lock when Hamilton abruptly opened it and came quickly out of the room.
“You are the person I want,” said the doctor, laying his hand on his arm. “Hamilton, I want you to come out with me this bright day.”
“To-day, sir?” said Hamilton, whose countenance expressed any thing but delight at the proposition.
“And why put off till to-morrow what may be done to-day so well?” said the doctor, smiling. “I suppose you have hopes of the weather making a walk impracticable to-morrow: but I must have you all out, or some of you will be laid up before you go home.”
His eye fell upon Clifton, who was sitting with his elbows on a desk close by, his fingers pushed through his hair, wholly absorbed in “Gibbon's Decline and Fall.” Dr. Wilkinson addressed him twice, but, producing no impression, he removed one of the props of his head, and turned his face towards himself.
“What are you doing there?”