"Come in, you pretty Harry," said I.
"Oh! I am very melancholy," observed De Roos, blushing, as he took his seat.
"Upon my honour," said Leinster, "Henry is fretting for nothing at all. Wait now, while I tell you all about it."
"Indeed, and we are waiting," I answered.
"Why," Leinster went on, "his mother, my Lady De Roos, is going to send him down to a private tutor to-morrow, and I have frightened him with my description of the Smiths, that's all."
"Who are the Smiths?" I asked.
"Mr. Smith is the name of the big duke's tutor, whom he has just left," answered De Roos, "after enduring such wretchedness, for more than two years, as would have about finished me, I am sure."
"Nothing at all like wretchedness, upon my honour," retorted Leinster. "It is all Harry's spoiled way."
"Tell us, you big duke, how you used to pass your valuable time at this said bugbear of a tutor, Mr. Smith's," said I.
"Listen while I tell you then," replied Leinster. "Myself and two other lads were under his care. We rose at six and cleaned our own boots and shoes."