“The night air is dangerous,” he said.
“No, it isn’t,” said Dick. “It’s all fancy.”
“I wish the window to be shut,” said Arthur with dignity.
“Oh, very well!” said Dick drowsily; and his brother went on talking.
“Papa has sent for a suit of flannels and a suit of tweeds for me, for I suppose I must wear them while we are down amongst these savages.”
The bed creaked and squeaked a little, consequent upon Dick rolling about and laughing; but Arthur was at work with two hair-brushes upon his head, and did not hear.
“I have sent word that the tailor is to make an outside breast-pocket for my handkerchief, and that the flannels are to be edged and bound with black.”
Dick’s head had been half under the clothes, but he popped it out now to raise himself up a little and say:
“Oh, won’t you look lovely!”
Then the bed creaked again as Dick dropped down, his brother not condescending to notice his frivolous remark.