Chapter Thirty Three.
Between Boys.
“Oh, I say, what a lovely morning!”
Glyn, who had lain awake half the night, woke up with a start, to see Singh standing barefooted by the window, which he had just thrown wide open to let in the joyous sunshine and the soft sweet air. “Yes, jolly,” he cried, inhaling a deep breath. “No! Most miserable morning I ever saw,” and he sank back sitting on the edge of his bed, to utter a deep groan.
Singh sprang to his side in an instant. “Glyn, old chap, what’s the matter? Are you ill?”
“Yes, horribly. In my head. Oh, I say! I couldn’t sleep for ever so long last night for thinking about it.”
“Then why didn’t you wake me, old fellow? I’d have dressed directly and gone and told the Doctor.”
“What about?”
“You being so ill.”
“Bah!” cried Glyn angrily. “It isn’t salts and senna. What a fellow you are! You don’t mean to say that you’d forgotten that the dad’s coming down to-day?”