Raymond followed his brother in about ten minutes, and threw himself into a chair and yawned.
"Are you very tired, dear?" asked his mother.
"I should think I was. The air of that hole in Harstone is enough to choke a fellow. I don't believe you have any idea of the stuffy air; and such dirty clerks at the desks—a set of cads!"
"One isn't a cad anyhow," said Reginald. "His brother is in my form. His name is Percival."
"Oh, I know; his coat out at elbows, and his hair like a mop. I should say he was the greatest cad of the lot."
"That I know he isn't," said Reginald hotly. "He may be shabby—for his people are poor, and there are heaps of children—but I am certain Ralph Percival's brother isn't a cad."
"You needn't put yourself out about it," Raymond said. "Not one of the clerks is anything to me. I don't speak to them."
"I daresay as you get higher in the office you will find the class better. Mr. Warde's nephew and his two sons are in it. Uncle Loftus told me so."
"Any letters for me by the second post?" asked Raymond.
"No, dear. Whom did you expect to hear from?"