Mr Temple left the room, and as Arthur jumped up, scarlet with indignation, to pace up and down, Dick laid his face upon his arm in a clear place and began to laugh.
“It’s absurd,” said Arthur in indignant tones. “Your clothes will not fit me properly, and I hate straw hats.”
“I wouldn’t go,” said Dick, lifting his merry face.
“Yes,” cried Arthur furiously, “that’s just what you want, but I shall go.”
“All right! I should like you to come. Go and slip on my flannels; they’re sure to be dry by now.”
“Slip on your rubbishy old flannels!” cried Arthur contemptuously; “and a pretty guy I shall look. I shall be ashamed to walk along the cliff.”
“Nobody will notice you, Taff,” said Dick. “Come, I say, look sharp, here’s nearly five minutes gone.”
“And what’s that about the cigars?” said Arthur furiously. “You stole my case.”
“I only took it for a bit of fun,” said Dick humbly. “I did not think father would have noticed it. You see he thinks it is me who smokes.”
“And a good job too! Serve you right for stealing my case.”