More back patting, crowding up, conscious blushes, and congratulations.
Then the doctor put down one paper and took up another; and every one knew what was coming.
“Upper school,” read the doctor in exactly the same voice, as if this announcement were of no more importance than any other. “Aggregate form order—out of a possible 1000 marks, Redwood, captain of the school, and day boy, 902.”
We were obliged to interrupt a little here. There would not be many more chances of cheering old Redwood, and we couldn’t afford to chuck them away. So we cheered, and gave the doctor time to polish up his glasses and take a sip of water.
“Your cheers,” said he, when at last we had relieved ourselves, “are well-deserved. In addition to this capital result, Redwood takes the Low Heath scholarship to Trinity, where, I almost venture to prophesy, we shall hear even greater things of him some day.”
More cheers. But we were too impatient to hear what came next to interpose too long a delay.
“Tempest, Mr Sharpe’s, second, 888; all the more gratifying when we remember the causes which interrupted his school work for a time last term.”
We fairly gave ourselves away now! Sharpe’s had reached the top of the tide with a vengeance. There was an end to all uncertainty as to who would be its captain; and there was the glorious certainty that the captain of Sharpe’s would also be captain of Low Heath. Three cheers! Rather.
But still we could not, till the rest of the list was read, give ourselves up to cheering for as long as we should have liked. So we allowed the doctor to proceed.
“Pridgin, Mr Sharpe’s, third, 869—very close.”