“Come, my lad,” he cried, “I should have thought you would be ravenous. Hallo! What’s wrong?”
I looked at him with my face all in wrinkles, and sank down despondently in the seat to which he pointed.
“Tired out?” he said.
I shook my head.
“Then, pray, what’s the matter?”
“Matter?” I cried bitterly. “You saw what a fool I made of myself this morning.”
His face wore a peculiar look as he shook his head.
“No,” he said; “I was not there that time. What did you do?”
“Not there! Why, you saw me get all wrong, and the men nearly ride me down, as Barton said they would, with that horse.”
“I thought so,” said Brace drily. “How curious it is that a prophecy of evil always makes more impression than one of good.”