Seabrooke passed on with a cold, indifferent smile just moving the corners of his mouth. He had little of the spirit of good comradeship and was not accustomed to meet any joke or nonsense from his companions in a responsive manner; so it was little wonder that he was not very popular with the other boys.
But as he passed Percy, who stood leaning with his back against a tree, rather discontentedly kicking the toe of his shoe into the ground, he saw that the boy was vexed about something, and paused to speak to him.
"Hallo, Neville," he said; "what is the matter? You look as if the world were not wagging your way just now."
"Nothing," answered Percy, half-sulkily, "only I wish I hadn't given you that money. The fellows think I'm awfully mean."
"So soon!" said Seabrooke to himself; then replied aloud, "Why, because you wish to pay a just debt?"
"No, they don't know about that," said Percy, "only they think I ought to stand treat."
"I shall keep my word to you," said Seabrooke, significantly, and walked on.
"You wouldn't like it yourself," answered Percy; but Seabrooke only shrugged his shoulders and gave no symptom of yielding to his unspoken desire.
"Weak, unstable fellow!" he said to himself. "He would have asked me for that money if he had thought there was the slightest chance I would give it to him, and would have spent a part of it rather than have those fellows chaff and run him. After his sister's sacrifice, too. Pah!"
He had never been a boy who was subject to temptations of this nature, or who cared one iota for the opinion of others, especially if he believed himself to be in the right; and he had no patience with or pity for weakness of character or purpose. To him there was something utterly contemptible in Percy's indulging in the least thought of withdrawing from his resolution of using the sum he had confided to his keeping to repay his debt to his sister, and he wasted no sympathy upon him or his fancied difficulties.