"Come, Ishmael; you must make a spectacle of yourself again, I suppose, to please that little tyrant," laughed Walter, as he turned back with his friend towards the group of young girls.
Now in this company was one who looked with the envious malignity of Satan upon the well-merited honors of the poor peasant boy. This enemy was Alfred Burghe, and he was now savagely waiting his opportunity to inflict upon Ishmael a severe mortification.
As Walter and Ishmael, therefore, approached the group of young ladies, Alfred, who was loitering near them, lying in wait for his victim, drew away with an expression of disgust upon his face, saying:
"Oh, if that fellow is to join our circle, I shall feel obliged to leave it. It is degrading enough to be forced to mix with such rubbish in the schoolroom, without having to associate with him in the drawing room."
"What do you mean by that, sir?" demanded Miss Merlin, flashing upon him the lightning of her eyes, before Ishmael had drawn near enough to overhear the words of Alfred.
"I mean that fellow is not fit company for me."
"No; Heavens knows that he is not!" exclaimed Claudia pointedly.
"Never mind, Miss Merlin; do not be angry with him; the beaten have a right to cry out," said Ishmael, who had now come up, and stood smiling among them, totally unconscious of the humiliation that was in store for him.
"I am not angry; I am never angry with such dull pups; though I find it necessary to punish them sometimes," replied Claudia haughtily.
"I say he is no fit company for me; and when I say that, I mean to say that he is no fit company for any young gentleman, much less for any young lady!" exclaimed Alfred.