“We’re not at boarding-school, my lad,” laughed Chester, “and no one has given orders as to the exact hour for retiring, so far as I am aware.”
“Of course not,” said his brother, “Cousin Horace and Cousin Sue are not of the sort to be over strict with a fellow, and would never think of laying down the law to visitors, any way.”
“And it’s not late,” added Walter, accepting the chair Chester had set for him.
“Come on, Max, we’re a respectable crowd, and won’t damage your morals,” said Ralph, lighting a cigar and beginning to smoke it.
“I should hope not,” said Chester, “and I presume if any such danger had been apprehended he would hardly have been allowed to come to the Oaks.”
“Are his morals supposed to be more easily damaged than those of the common run of fellows?” asked Bertram Shaw, regarding Max with a sneering, supercilious stare.
“I am inclined to think they are,” said Ralph.
“Come, come, now, I’m not going to have Max made uncomfortable,” interposed Chester, good-naturedly. “He’s my guest, you know. Here, sit down, laddie, it’s early yet,” pushing forward a chair as he spoke, “have a cigar?”
“No thank you,” returned Max pleasantly; “I tried one once and got enough of it. I never was so sick in my life.”
“Oh, that’s nothing unusual for a first trial; likely it wouldn’t have the same effect again,” said Bertram.