“Leave the room, sir!” cried Jack, starting to his feet.
“Certainly, sir, but if you would—”
Whish!—Bang!—Jingle!
In a fit of petulant anger Jack had followed the man’s suggestion, caught up a heavy Greek lexicon, and thrown it with all his might, or rather with all his weakness, at the servant’s head. Edward ducked down, and the book went through the glass of one of the cases; and at the same moment Sir John Meadows entered the library.
Chapter Four.
A ready-made man.
“What’s the meaning of this?” cried Sir John angrily, as he stood staring in astonishment at his son’s anger-distorted, flushed face, then at the footman, and back at his son.
“I—I—this fellow—this man—Edward was insolent, and—and—I—father—I—ordered him—to leave the room—and—and he would not go.”