“Consult your friend!” Aunt Margaret’s last words.
“Been having a cigar?”
“I’ve been hanging about here this last hour. How is it she hasn’t been for a walk?”
“Louie? Don’t know. Here, let’s go down under the cliff, and find a snug corner, and have a talk over a pipe.”
“The latter, if you like; never mind the former. Yes, I will: for I want a few words of a sort.”
“What about?” said Harry, as they strolled away.
“Everything. Look here, old fellow; we’ve been the best of chums ever since you shared my desk.”
“Yes, and you shared my allowance.”
“Well, chums always do. Then I came down with you, and it was all as jolly as could be, and I was making way fast, in spite of that confounded red-headed porridge-eating fellow. Then came that upset, and I went away. Then you wrote to me in answer to my letter about having a good thing on, and said ‘Come down.’”
“And you came,” said Harry thoughtfully, “and the good thing turned out a bad thing, as every one does that I join in.”