“Oh, I know that,” said Archie; “but isn’t it lowering our name to keep such company?”
“It isn’t raising our name, nor growing fresh laurels either, for you to play practical jokes on this poor London lad. But as to being in his company, Archie, you may have to be in worse yet. But listen! I want my son to behave as a gentleman, even in low company. Remember that boy, and despise no one, whatever be his rank in life. Now, go and beg your mother’s and sister’s forgiveness for having to appear before them with a black-eye.”
“Archie!” his father called after him, as he was leaving the room.
“Yes, dad?”
“How long do you think it will be before you get into another scrape?”
“I couldn’t say for certain, father. I’m sure I don’t want to get into any. They just seem to come.”
“There’s no doubt about one thing, Mr Broadbent,” said the tutor smiling, when Archie had left.
“And that is?”
“He’s what everybody says he is, a chip of the old block. Headstrong, and all that; doesn’t look before he leaps.”
“Don’t I, Walton?”