"Oh Lord, here's another of them now!" thought Paul. "You are right, young sir," he said: "have you any objection? mention it, you know, if you have, pray mention it. It's a matter of life and death to me, but if you at all disapprove, of course that ought to be final!"
"No, but," protested Biddlecomb, "I, I daresay I've not treated you very well lately, I——"
"You were kind enough to suggest several very uncommonly unpleasant ways of annoying me, sir," said Paul resentfully, "if you mean that. You've kicked me more than once, and your handkerchief, unless I am very much mistaken, had the biggest and the hardest knot in it yesterday. If that gives you the right to interfere and dictate to me now, like your amiable friend, Master Chawner, I suppose you have it."
"Now you're angry," said Biddlecomb humbly; "I don't wonder at it. I've behaved like a cad, I know, but, and this is what I wanted to say, I was sorry for you all the time."
"That's very comforting," said Paul drily; "thank you. I'm vastly obliged to you."
"I was, though," said Biddlecomb. "I, I was led away by the other fellows—I always liked you, you know, Bultitude."
"You've a very odd way of showing your affection," remarked Mr. Bultitude; "but go on, let me hear all you have to say."
"It isn't much," said Biddlecomb, quite broken down; "only don't sneak of me this time, Dick, let me off, there's a good fellow. I'll stick up for you after this, I will really. You used not to be a fellow for sneaking once. It's caddish to sneak!"
"Don't be alarmed, my good friend," said Paul; "I won't poach on that excellent young man Chawner's preserves. What I am going to tell the Doctor has nothing to do with you."
"On your honour?" said Biddlecomb eagerly.