CHAPTER XXVI. BENEATH THEM.
"Now let us go back, as fast as we can," she said, when she had wrapped up my wrist very softly, with her muslin handkerchief—which I took care never to restore to her; "the tide is coming in, and if it gets to the point before us, we shall have to go a mile inland. And I declare, we have forgotten all about the Professor's signal, which may have been waving for an hour! And perhaps my dear mother may be waiting for us. But this unequalled lobster will account for all delay. How quiet he is, since we tied his claws! I ought to beg your pardon for the liberty I took, in calling you 'Tommy;' but I was in a fright, and it sounds so very natural, because of the Professor; and Mamma is almost as bad as he is."
"I will only ask you one thing," was my answer; "try to be as bad, or as good, in that way. Call me 'Tommy,' every time you speak. Why, don't you remember when I put a new leg to your doll? And you gave me such a kiss, that I have thought of it ever since. And you said—'You are to call me Lo, remember. All the people I like best are to call me Lo. And I think I like you best of almost everybody in the world,' But of course you have forgotten all that now."
"What extraordinary creatures children are!" she exclaimed, as if she were the mother of the "Lo"; and then she came nearer to me, and said—"I remember that you were a great favourite of mine; and I don't like you not to call me anything. But look, there goes the great handkerchief!"
"You shall not get out of it like that;" I answered, with a little groan, as if my wrist was in great pain, for fear of any wrath on her part. "People should always understand each other; and how can they do that, without any names? You should call me 'Tommy,' upon all occasions; because I am Tommy, and nothing else; and even the Examiners call me 'Tommy,' because of my steering the eight so much. But it never would do for me, to call you 'Laura,' except when we are quite by ourselves, you know; or with only the Professor, who never would tell, and I don't suppose he would ever notice it. In general society, I must call you 'Miss Twentifold.' But in particular cases, now and then, I should be very much obliged indeed, if I might,—just to keep up the practice, as one might express it, call you only 'Laura.'"
I would gladly have put something else before "Laura;" but I thought this was far enough to go just yet; and it would make it all the nicer, that her mother should not know it.
"Tommy," she replied, with as clear an intonation of my friendly, and genial, but not romantic name, as I ever yet was accosted with, "I shall leave it entirely to your own discretion, to call me what you like, and when you like. And I see no possibility of harm in my calling you, what all the Examiners at Oxford do. They gave you the most honourable class of all, I hear; because you never asked for it. The Bishop says, that you might have beaten Mr. Chumps."
This must have been an error on the Bishop's part, or hers; because there was no way to beat a double-first then; though now a man may go into perhaps five and twenty firsts. But I did not attempt to contradict her, after all her kindness.
"I hope, you have never seen Mr. Chumps;" I said, purposely making him as formal as I could; for I knew that if Bill Chumps came down here, for canvassing purposes, or anything else, he would be sure to get elected far in front of me.