"Blush be hanged!" said the victim.
"Don't be ashamed, my child; it's a very nice thing to be able to blush," Wally grinned. "No one would ever dream you could, either, so it's a happy surprise as well!"
"There's not a blush about you, that's one thing," said Jim, from the depths of his big box.
"Wore out all my powers that way blushing over you!" was Wally's prompt reply. "Norah, will you use that thing for cocoa, or what?"
"Don't be disrespectful—I'm admiring it," Norah answered, turning the cup round. "Dad will like it awfully."
"Has he shown you his prizes?"
"Prizes!" Norah exclaimed, falling off the arm of the sofa in amazement. "Jim, you horrid boy, you never told us. Show me at once!"
"Never thought about 'em," said the unhappy Jim, un-earthing two resplendent books. "Here you are, anyhow—and Wally needn't talk; he's got three!"
"I'm faint in the presence of so much learning!" Norah said, sitting down on a golf bag. "Who'd ever have suspected you? French and Prefect's Prize—oh, I'm so glad you got that one, Jim, dear." Her quick ear caught a step, and she called her father excitedly.
Mr. Linton entered, to be greeted by incoherent tidings of his son's success, to the meaning of which the two books lent aid.