“I mean to get my remove at Christmas, if I get brain-fever over it.”
“Rather; so do I,” said Heathcote.
“I shall have a go in at the irregular verbs during the holidays.”
“Eh—will you?” asked Georgie, beginning to stagger a little at the new programme. “All serene; so will I.”
“We might begin to-night, perhaps.”
“Awfully sorry—I’ve an engagement to-night,” said Heathcote.
“Where?”
This was the first occasion on which Dick had asked this very awkward question. It was the wind-up supper of the “Select Sociables” for the present term, and to Heathcote one of the chief attractions of the prospect had been that Dick, being a member, would be there too. He was, therefore, startled somewhat at the inquiry.
“Oh, you know. We don’t talk about it,” said he.
“So it seems,” said Dick; “but it happens I don’t know.”