“Ah! I see what you are thinking of,” said Hugh. “I am so afraid you should be ashamed of me again, when I come into the playground. The boys will quiz me;—and if you are ashamed of me—”
“Oh, no, no!” earnestly declared Phil. “There is nobody in the world that will quiz you;—or, if there is, they had better take care of me, I can tell them. But nobody will. You don’t know how sorry the boys are. Here comes Dale. He will tell you the same thing.”
Dale was quite sure that any boy would, from this time for ever, be sent to Coventry who should quiz Hugh for his lameness. There was not a boy now at Crofton who would not do anything in the world to help him.
“Why, Dale, how you have been crying!” exclaimed Hugh. “Is anything wrong in school? Can’t you manage your verses yet?”
“I’ll try that to-night,” said Dale, cheerfully. “Yes; I’ll manage them. Never mind what made my eyes red; only, if such a thing had happened to me, you would have cried,—I am sure of that.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Phil.
“Now, Proctor, you had better go,” said Dale. “One at a time is enough to-day; and I shall not stay long.”
Phil agreed, and actually shook hands with Hugh before he went.
“Phil is so kind to-day!” cried Hugh, with glee; “though he is disappointed of going to uncle Shaw’s on my account. And I know he had reckoned on it. Now, I want to know one thing,—where did Mr Tooke sleep last night? For this is his bed.”
Dale believed he slept on the sofa. He was sure, at least, that he had not taken off his clothes; for he had come to the door several times in the course of the night, to know how all was going on.