"Humph!" said Eric, laughing; "I shall bring out a new Duncan-dictionary, in which. [Greek: chezchochezons chos] = very nice little fellow."
"Pooh!" said Duncan; "you know well enough what I mean; I mean he's not one of your white-faced, lily-hearted new boys, but has lots of fun in him."
"Well, what of him?"
"Have you any objection to my asking him to sit in the study when he likes?"
"Not the least in the world."
"Very well, I'll go and fetch him now. But wouldn't you like to ask your brother Vernon to come in too whenever he's inclined?"
"No," said Eric, "I don't care. He does come every now and then."
Duncan went to fetch Wildney, and while he was gone, Brie was thinking why he didn't give Vernon the free run of his study. He would not admit to himself the true reason, which was, that he had too much ground to fear that his example would do his brother no good.
Eric soon learned to like Wildney, who was a very bright, engaging, spirited boy, with a dash of pleasant impudence about him which took Eric's fancy. He had been one of the most mischievous of the lower fellows, but, although clever, did little or nothing in school, and was in the worst repute with the masters. Until he was "taken up" by Eric, he had been a regular little hero among his compeers, because he was game for any kind of mischief, and, in the new tone of popular morality, his fearless disregard of rules made him the object of general admiration. From this time, however, he was much in the studies, and unhappily carried with him to those upper regions the temptation to a deeper and more injurious class of transgressions than had yet penetrated there.
It was an ill day for General Wildney when he sent his idolised little son to Roslyn; it was an ill day for Eric when Duncan first asked the child to frequent their study.