“Mr. Hobbs,” said Cedric, “one is sitting on this box now!”
Mr. Hobbs almost jumped out of his chair.
“What!” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” Cedric announced, with due modesty; “I am one—or I am going to be. I won't deceive you.”
Mr. Hobbs looked agitated. He rose up suddenly and went to look at the thermometer.
“The mercury's got into your head!” he exclaimed, turning back to examine his young friend's countenance. “It IS a hot day! How do you feel? Got any pain? When did you begin to feel that way?”
He put his big hand on the little boy's hair. This was more embarrassing than ever.
“Thank you,” said Ceddie; “I'm all right. There is nothing the matter with my head. I'm sorry to say it's true, Mr. Hobbs. That was what Mary came to take me home for. Mr. Havisham was telling my mamma, and he is a lawyer.”
Mr. Hobbs sank into his chair and mopped his forehead with his handkerchief.
“ONE of us has got a sunstroke!” he exclaimed.