The words were uttered before he had noticed that the captain was not alone, or that his visitor was young Wyndham, in a state of great distress—hardly greater than that of Riddell himself.
As soon as he did perceive it he drew back, and said, “I beg your pardon; I didn’t know any one was here.”
“I’ll go,” said Wyndham, hurriedly, going to the door, and hardly lifting his eyes from the ground as he passed.
Bloomfield could hardly help noticing his strange appearance, or wondering at it.
“Anything wrong with young Wyndham?” said he, not sorry to have some way of breaking the ice.
“He’s in trouble,” said the captain. “Won’t you sit down?”
It was a very long time since the head of Parrett’s and the captain of the school had met in this polite way. But Bloomfield for some time past had shown signs of coming round to see that the position which had been forced upon him, and which he had been very ready at first to accept, was not a satisfactory one. And, greatly to the disgust of some of his fellow-monitors, he had shown this more than once by friendly advances towards his rival. But, so far, he had never got to the length of calling upon him in his study.
Riddell was scarcely surprised to see him, although he was quite unprepared for the very amicable way in which he began.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” said Bloomfield, “but I’ve been intending to come over the last day or two.”
“It’s very good of you,” said Riddell.