“What’s up?”
“Committee day,” said the other lad.
Robert Lancaster ran off to find the Collingwood father, and came up to him breathless. The Collingwood father was a serious man, made more serious by his family of other people’s children; his face took now an aspect of importance, and he laid his hand on the lad’s shoulder.
“Time’s come,” he said.
“Keep cool, my lad.”
“I am cool,” said Bobbie, trembling with eagerness.
“Don’t forget that the gentlemen, what you are going now to have an interview with, represent so to speak your benefactors what have looked after you and clothed you and fed you and generally speaking kept you flourishing.”
“I know what you mean.”
“You’ll go before the Committee,” said the father of Collingwood Cottage, solemnly, “and what I want to impress upon you, my boy, is the necessity of putting on your very best manners. A little bad behaviour on your part will go a long way.”