“Yes, yes; coming!” cried the boy, leaping out of bed, and hurrying on his dressing-gown.
“Open the door.”
“Yes; I’m coming!”
Max opened the door, and Kenneth rushed in.
“Come, old lazy-bones!” he cried; “look sharp! It’s a quarter to nine, and the dad will look dirks and daggers if we keep him waiting.”
“I—I’m very sorry,” said Max. “I—I dropped off to sleep again. I thought you would come and call me to bathe.”
“What was the use? See what a fuss you made yesterday!”
“But I meant to come.”
“Well, don’t talk, old chap. Look sharp, and dress.”
“Yes; but are you going to stay?”