A notable battle was fought on the threshold of Greenfield senior’s study, in which many were wounded on both sides, and in the midst of which Oliver arrived on the scene, kicking right and left, and causing a general rout.
How their hero appreciated the attentions his admirers had paid him during his absence the Guinea-pigs did not remain or return to ascertain. They took for granted he was grateful, and bashfully kept out of the way of his thanks for a whole day.
After that their enthusiasm returned, but this time it found a new vent. They decided that, although they would all fag for him to the end of his days, they would not for a season, at any rate, solicit jobs from him, but rather encourage him by their sympathy and applause at a more respectful distance.
So they took to cheering him in the playground, and following him down the passages. And this not being enough, they further relieved themselves by hooting (at a respectful distance also) the chiefs of the senior school, whose opinions on the question of Greenfield senior were known not to agree with their own.
If Oliver was not grateful for all this moral support in his trouble, he must have been a villain indeed of the deepest dye. He never said in so many words he was grateful; but then the Guinea-pigs remembered that feelings are often too deep and too many for words, and so took for granted the thanks which their consciences told them they deserved.
Meanwhile a fresh number of the Dominican was in progress, and rapidly nearing the hour of publication.