“Marky,” said Arthur, “it’s not true you’re leaving, is it?”
The misery of the boy’s tone went to Railsford’s heart.
“I am afraid it is true, Arthur. How did you hear?”
“Everybody knows. But, I say, why?”
“I have resigned.”
“You resigned—of your own accord? Haven’t you been kicked out, then? Aren’t you obliged to go?”
“I am obliged to go, that’s why I have resigned. You’ll know all about it some day.”
“But, I say, can’t you withdraw your resignation and stay? Oh, I say, Marky, we shall be awfully up a tree without you here. Why ever are you going? Can’t it all be squared?”
“No, old fellow, I fear not. But I am not going for a week yet. Let’s make the most of the time, and get ahead with our work; for, remember, you’ve that Swift Exhibition coming near ahead.”
“Work!” exclaimed Arthur, in disgust. “I’ll not do a stroke of work more. I tell you what, if you leave, Marky, I shall leave too, and so will Dig, there!”