'What did you say, father?' asked Leonard, with widely opened eyes.
'The formation of a swatting club is the last new move, I hear, at Torrington's. To swat is to study, I understand—is that right?'
'Oh yes, the word is right enough; but who told you about it?'
'Is it a secret, then? Didn't you know about it—haven't you been asked to join it?'
'No! they wouldn't ask me; it isn't likely; for all the school know that I am trying to keep up the honour of Torrington's—keep it from going to the dogs, in fact,' said the boy, loftily, but with an angry tone in his voice.
'I am glad to hear it, Len. I was a Torrington boy in my time, and I love the old school still.'
'Then, father, what did you send that beastly scholarship boy there for?' burst out Leonard, scarcely knowing what he said in his anger.
'Leonard! Leonard!' chided his mother.
'I beg your pardon, mother, but it is what the fellows are always saying, and I forgot.'
'But why should the boys be vexed that the County Council chose to send one of the most promising of their scholars to that school? Has he done anything to offend you?'