"Don't be too sure about it," Reginald said, with a laugh. "You're always sanguine, Mickle. I'm ready to face a beating."
"So am I," Tom replied good-humouredly; "so are we all, I expect; but I hope to see our eleven win, nevertheless!"
Another boy came up at that moment and engaged his attention; and Reginald, turning to Gerald, remarked pleasantly—
"If you're going home now, I'll walk a little way with you."
"Oh, very well," was the response, in rather an ungracious tone.
Quitting the playground by the back entrance, they soon left the lane for the main street. Very few words were spoken by either till they were out of the town; but when they reached the bridge the elder boy suggested they should sit down and hold their conversation there, which they accordingly did.
"You've been avoiding me these last few days," Reginald commenced, "and of course I know why. You're afraid I'm offended at what your father said to me the other night. It was very interfering of him, but you couldn't help it. I'm sorry for you, Willis, for you must have to walk a pretty straight path if he's always like that. He's awfully strict, isn't he?"
"Oh no, no! But he hates to see any one unkind. I can't think how you could have beaten your dog so cruelly."
"Well, I lost my temper, you know, that's how it was. I'm a little heavy-handed when I'm in a passion. But you needn't think that I bear malice in heart; I daresay your father was right enough, looking at the matter from his point of view. I'm not resentful against him, anyway." Then, seeing that Gerald was not so much impressed with his magnanimous spirit as he had anticipated he would be, he determined to let the subject drop, and proceeded: "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. What do you really think about the cricket match to-morrow? Shall we win?"
"How can I tell? I only know Tom Mickle says he believes we shall."