“I wish I were in your place, Rupert.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t suit you. You wouldn’t know how to behave among fashionable people.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” asked Tom, spiritedly.
“Because you are only a shoe-pegger. You are not used to good society.”
“I consider my mother and sister to be good society,” said Tom, quickly.
“Oh, no doubt they are good sort of people,” said Rupert, condescendingly, “but they are not fashionable.”
“I don’t see much difference between you and me on that score,” said Tom. “Your father and mine used to work at the shoe bench together.”
“Do you mean to insult me?” asked Rupert, flushing with vexation.
“No, I am only telling the truth.”
Rupert looked offended, and became silent and sullen. By this time there was another vacant seat on the opposite side of the car. Tom rose and took it, finding that Rupert did not enjoy his society. On the whole he was not sorry, for he had feared that he might be unable to shake him off, and he did not wish any one from Wilton to be present at his interview with Darius Darke.