“Put that down,” thundered Sir Matthew, as though he had been ordering a child of four years old.
“Sir?” said Ralph, in angry astonishment.
“Do you think I don’t understand your game,” said Sir Matthew. “You are pretending to look for news of your examination when all the time you perfectly well know that you have failed.”
“Failed!” cried Ralph turning pale, and realising how little he had believed in failure when he had talked of the possibility with Evereld. “Who says I have failed? Where are the lists?”
He snatched at the paper again, neither heeding Sir Matthew’s orders nor his scoffing laugh. Here was the list of the successful candidates, and with eager eyes he looked down it. The name of Denmead was not there.
Sir Matthew silently watched his expression of bewildered despair, but though it would have appealed to some men it did not appeal to him.
“Now that the newspaper corroborates what I told you, perhaps you believe my word,” he said sarcastically.
“I beg your pardon,” said Ralph, “I did not mean to doubt you—but the shock———”
“Now my good fellow, you may as well be silent, the less said about a shock the better; you know perfectly well that you never deserved to pass that examination. You had idled away your time over cricket and theatricals, and now you have to face the consequences.”
“You are the first person to say that,” said Ralph, resentfully. “They all told me I had an excellent chance and was well prepared.”