“Made such an ass of myself,” said Oliver, laughing. “Of course I can see now how it would all work in beautifully against me, and I’m certain I’ve myself to thank for the whole business.”
“Now, don’t say that. Nothing can excuse the way all of us treated you, poor old boy. But, thank goodness, it’s all right now. I’ll let them know—”
“Now, Wray, that’s just what I won’t have you do. You must not say a word to them about it, or, seriously, I’ll be in a great rage. If they can’t think well of me of their own accord, I won’t have them do it for anybody else’s, so there.”
“But, Noll, old man—”
“Upon my word, Wray, I mean what I say. Not a word to anybody.”
“Do you mean to say you intend to live at Coventry all your life?”
“It’s not Coventry now, is it, Stee, old boy?” said Oliver, with a bright smile. “And now, Wray,” said he, “I want to know how you got on in the exam to-day. You were going ahead furiously, it seemed to me.”
“Yes, but wasn’t doing much good, I’m afraid. How have you done?”
“Pretty well; but I hadn’t time to touch the last question.”
“I knew, as soon as I saw you were entered for the exam,” said Wraysford, “we had all been taking you up wrong. I can guess now why you went in for it.”