“Really though,” said Plumber, and this time he looked so frightened that it was impossible for the rest to avoid bursting into a fit of laughter, during which Plumber, vaguely comprehending that he was considered a very good joke, retired with discomfiture.
“You fools,” said Henderson; “if you’d only given me a little more time I’d have made him believe that Lane had a tail, and wore his gown to conceal it, except when he used it to flog with; and that before being entered he would have to sing a song standing on his head. You’ve quite spoilt my game by bursting out laughing.”
“There’s another new fellow,” said Kenrick, one of the group. “Come here, you new fellow!” called two or three of them.
Walter looked up, thinking that he was addressed, but found that the summons was meant for a boy, rather good-looking but very slender, whose self-important attitude and supercilious look betrayed no slight amount of vanity, and who, to the apparent astonishment of the rest, was surveying the room and its appurtenances with a look of great affectation and disdain.
“So you don’t much seem to like the look of Saint Winifred’s,” said Kenrick to him, as the boy walked up with a delicate air. “Not much,” lisped the new boy; “everything looks so very common.”
“Common and unclean to the last degree,” said Henderson, imitating his manner.
“And is this the only place you have to sit in?”
“O, by no means,” said Henderson; “each of us has a private apartment furnished in crimson and gold, according to the simple yet elegant taste of the owner. Our meals are there served to us by kneeling domestics on little dishes of silver.”
“I suppose you intend that for wit,” said the new boy languidly.
“Yes; to do you, to wit,” answered Henderson; “but seriously though, that would be a great deal more like what you have been accustomed to, wouldn’t it, my friend?”