“Yes; but he took me for a Whig,” said the youth indignantly.
“But, I say, what was it all about?”
“Oh, you’ll soon learn that,” replied Andrew.
“Is there often fighting like this going on in the streets?”
“Every day somewhere.”
“But why?” said Frank anxiously.
“Surely you know! Because the Whigs have brought in a king that the people do not like. There, don’t talk about it any more now. I want to sit still and think.”
Frank respected his companion’s silence, and thankful at having escaped from the heat and pressure of the crowd, he sat gazing at the moving panorama on either side, enjoying the novelty of his position.
His musings upon what he saw were interrupted by his companion, who repeated his former words suddenly in a low, thoughtful voice, but one full of annoyance, as if the words were rankling in his memory.
“He took me for a Whig.”