“He’s a nasty, sneaking tattler, and he took and told something to Gaunt, and Gaunt put me up for punishment, and I had a caning from old Pye. I vowed I’d pay Pierce out for it, and I have done it, though he is a sight bigger than me.”
“What was it about?” inquired Mr. Yorke. “The damaged surplice?”
“Damaged surplice be hanged!” politely retorted the young gentleman, who, in gaining the victory, appeared to have lost his temper. “It was something concerning our lessons at the third desk, if you must know.”
“You might be civil, Tod,” said Lady Augusta. “Look at your shirt! Who, do you suppose, is going to mend that?”
“It can go unmended,” responded Master Tod. “I wish it was the fashion to go without clothes! They are always getting torn.”
“I wish it was!” heartily responded my lady.
That same evening, in returning to her house from a visit, Constance Channing encountered Mr. Yorke. He turned to walk with her to the door.
“I intended to call this afternoon, Constance, but was prevented from doing so,” he observed. “I have spoken to Lady Augusta.”
“Well?” she answered with a smile and a blush.
“She would be very glad of you; but the difficulty, at first, appeared to be about salary. However, I pointed out a few home truths, and she admitted that if the girls were to be educated, she supposed she must pay for it. She will give you forty guineas a year; but you are to call upon her and settle other details. To-morrow, if it should be convenient to you.”