“He had better be kept quiet for a few days. By the way, he said something about wanting to see a Troy, or a Joy, or some such name—and some one else. Who was it, Denning, Heming, Henning—some such name.”
“It's all one person, doctor. It's Roy Henning he wants to see. May he see him?”
“Yes, I think it would be better to let him see this
boy as soon as he wishes. There appears to be something important that he has to say which he wants to get off his mind. Yes, let him see this boy—a chum of his, I suppose. Perhaps it will do him good. Can not do any harm.”
“A chum of his! Ugh,” said Roy, sotto voce. There was really so comical a look of disgust on his face that the other boys, who were watching him closely, burst out laughing. The infirmarian came in:
“The doctor says ye can see the one with a broken arm, though what he do be wantin' ye for, I dunno. It's sorry I am to be hearing ye lost your sister, Master Roy, an' sure the Lord'll be having mercy on her.”
“Thank you very much, for your kind wishes.”
His friends now left him, wishing him all sorts of success in the interview. He thanked them, but did not go upstairs. Instead, he went to the window and looked out as if expecting some one. Some time later his friends were surprised to see him still standing there. Mr. Shalford thought that by this time the interview must be nearly over. He, too, was surprised to see Henning gazing out of the breakfast-room window. The prefect went over to him.
“Why are you not talking with Stockley?”he asked rather sharply.
“For two reasons, sir. I am a little nervous at present. You know how much depends for me on what that boy will say. I want to be cool, so I am waiting a little while. Secondly, I do not intend to go there alone.”