“Yes, perhaps they do,” said East; “there's a new set you see, mostly, who don't feel sure of themselves yet. They don't want to fight till they know the ground.”
“I don't think it's only that,” said Tom. “And then the Doctor, he does treat one so openly, and like a gentleman, and as if one was working with him.”
“Well, so he does,” said East; “he's a splendid fellow, and when I get into the sixth I shall act accordingly. Only you know he has nothing to do with our lessons now, except examining us. I say, though,” looking at his watch, “it's just the quarter. Come along.”
As they walked out they got a message, to say that Arthur was just starting, and would like to say goodbye. So they went down to the private entrance of the School-house, and found an open carriage, with Arthur propped up with pillows in it, looking already better, Tom thought.
They jumped up on to the steps to shake hands with him, and Tom mumbled thanks for the presents he had found in his study, and looked round anxiously for Arthur's mother.
[Original]
East, who had fallen back into his usual humour, looked quaintly at Arthur, and said,—
“So you've been at it again, through that hot-headed convert of yours there. He's been making our lives a burden to us all the morning about using cribs. I shall get floored to a certainty at second lesson, if I'm called up.”
Arthur blushed and looked down. Tom struck in,—