“Oh, all right,” said Andrew, with a merry laugh. “I should like to hear you say that to Mr George Selby.”
“I’d say it plainly to him and the whole of the members of his club,” said Frank hotly.
“Not you. Wouldn’t dare. Come with me on Friday and say it.”
“I? No. Let them come to me if they want it said.”
“They don’t. They’ve got you, and they’ll keep you.”
“Time will prove that, Drew. I’m very glad, though, that you have given up going.”
“Given up what?”
“Going to those dangerous meetings; and, I say, give up being so fond of staring at yourself in the glass. I never did see such a vain coxcomb of a fellow.”
“H–r–r–ur!” growled Andrew, as he swung round fiercely upon his fellow-page. “Oh, if I had not made up my mind that I wouldn’t quarrel with a brother! Ah! you may laugh; but you’ll repent it one of these days.”
The lad clenched his fist as he spoke; but he was met by such a good-tempered smile that he turned away again more angry than ever.