"Fancy Uncle John allowing you to smoke! Aren't you afraid of being sick?"
"No; you see, I'm used to it," Edgar replied, a flush rising to his cheeks. "You may as well try a cigarette, you'll enjoy it."
"No, thank you. Of course I know lots of the boys at the Grammar School do smoke—on the sly; but father said he hoped I never would, and I promised him I wouldn't."
"Oh, well, my father said something of the same kind, but I didn't promise one way or the other. He's never found me out yet—"
"Then he doesn't know. Oh, Edgar, how wrong of you! How can you bear to do it? Do put the cigarette down."
"Nonsense!" Edgar smoked on more out of a spirit of bravado than because he was enjoying the cigarette. He did not indulge in a second, however. "Look here, don't you go home and tell anyone I've been smoking," he said as he noted the expression of disapproval on his cousin's tell-tale countenance, "for you'll get me into a row if you do. Father's awfully against boys smoking."
"Then do say you won't smoke again, Edgar. It's awfully wrong of you, really."
"Oh, I shall be careful I'm not found out. I shouldn't smoke here if mother and father were at home, but I often do in my own room. Why, you look quite shocked! What a young innocent you are!"
"I'm no younger than you—that is, not much, only a few months. But, I say, Edgar, you really oughtn't to smoke if Uncle John doesn't wish you to; it's deceiving him;" and Roger spoke very seriously.
"Well, I daresay you deceive your father sometimes—"