“Pretty well,” said Edgar listlessly, “when I can’t get others.”
Arthur was beginning to think he had better say nothing, when suddenly the other boy turned to him, and said curiously—
“I suppose it was because you are converted that you came?”
“Yes,” Arthur answered.
“How did you know I was?” he asked, after some little time, when they had walked on in silence.
“Why, I don’t know; some of the others said things about you; and, besides, you know you are.”
He would not say that he had noticed Arthur Vivyan’s ways, and that he had seen there, what showed him there was a difference between him and the other boys; still less would he tell him just then, that there was an aching wish in his heart that he could say the same for himself.
“Yes,” Arthur said, “I am, Edgar; and do you know I wish you were.”
“How do you know I am not?”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Arthur; “but I don’t much think you are. Are you?”