“Stupid boy, don’t you know that train doesn’t go to X—?”
“No one said it didn’t, sir,” put in Billy, with an injured face.
“Did any one say it did?”
“I didn’t hear,” said Billy; “shall I go back and ask?”
“That would not be the least use,” said the master, too vexed almost to speak.
Billy stood before him, staring at him, and looking anything but cheerful.
“I shall have to go down to the station myself,” said the doctor. “You are the stupidest boy I ever had to do with.”
Billy looked resigned; then fumbling in his waistcoat pocket, he pulled out a bit of blue cardboard. “Oh, here’s the ticket, sir.”
“What! Wasn’t it enough to send the poor boy off by a wrong train, without keeping his ticket? Go away, sir, this instant, to your room, and stay there till I give you leave to quit it!”
Billy obeyed, evidently unable to make the affair out.