“And your mathematics absolutely hopeless?”
“But you were at the other end of the room when he said that,” I cried aghast.
“Of course; I was being wigged by old Rebble because I couldn’t go through the forty-seventh of Book One; and I can’t, and I feel as if I never shall.”
“I think I could,” I said.
“Of course you could; nearly every chap in the school can but me. I can learn some things easily enough; but I can’t remember all about those angles and squares, and all the rest of them.”
“You soon will if you try,” I whispered. “But how did you know the doctor said all that to me?”
“Because he says it to every new boy. He said it to me, and made me so miserable that I nearly ran away and if I hadn’t had a very big cake in my box, that I brought with me, I believe I should have broken my heart.”
“But I am very ignorant,” I said, after a pause for thought, during which my companion’s words had rather a comforting effect.
“So’s everybody. I’m awfully ignorant. What would be the good of coming here if we weren’t all behind? Oh, how I wish things could be turned round!”
“Turned round?” I said wonderingly.