“A lot of old clothes!” commented James, turning up his nose. “That's a fine legacy, I must say.”
“I shall find them useful,” said Herbert, quietly.
“Oh, no doubt. You can roll up the pants and coat-sleeves. It will be fun to see you parading round in your uncle's tailcoats.”
“I don't think you'll have that pleasure,” said Herbert, flushing. “If I wear them I shall have them made over for me.”
“I congratulate you on your new and extensive wardrobe,” said James, mockingly. “Won't you cut a dash, though, on the streets of Wrayburn!”
Herbert did not deign a reply to this rude speech. Tom Spencer, who was much more of a gentleman than James, was disgusted with his impertinence. He rose, and took Herbert by the hand.
“You must let me introduce myself,” he said. “My name is Thomas Spencer, and I am glad to see you here.”
“Thank you,” said Herbert, his heart opening at the frank and cordial manner of the other. “My name is Herbert Carter, and I am very glad to make your acquaintance.”
“Are you going to finish this game, Tom?” drawled James, not relishing the idea of Herbert's receiving any attention from his friend.
“If you don't mind, we'll have it another time,” said Tom. “There goes the supper bell, and I for one am hungry.”