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After some formal evidence they were remanded for a week, bail being refused." "A youth named Reginald was yesterday charged at Liverpool with conspiracy to defraud by means of fictitious circulars addressed in the name of a trading company. He was remanded for three days without bail, pending inquiries." It so happened that it fell to Booms's lot to cut the latter paragraph out.
"It'll only be one this winter, I'm afraid," said Waterford, "as the Megsons have gone. It's a Miss Crisp, Cruden, a friend of Booms's, who " "Whom I met the other night at the Shucklefords'?" said Horace. Booms answered the question with such an agonised sigh that both his companions burst out laughing. "Dear old Booms can tell you more about her than I can," said Waterford.
"I didn't expect to meet you," said the melancholy one. "I say, Cruden, please don't mention her." "Her? Whom?" said Horace, bewildered. Booms's reply was a mournful inclination of the head in the direction of Miss Crisp. "Oh, I see. All right, old man. You're a lucky fellow, I think. She looks a jolly sort of girl." "Lucky! Jolly! Oh, Cruden," ejaculated his depressed friend.
He is not ill," said Booms, emphasising the pronoun. "Is Reginald ill, then, or their mother?" A ray of hope crossed Booms's mind. This stranger was evidently a friend of the family. He called the boys by their Christian names, and knew their mother. Would he take charge of the dismal secret? "His mother is ill," said he. "Do you know them?" "Rather.
"Well, when he'd gone we had a consultation, and of course it ended in Waterford and me determining to sit up. Poor Booms's heart would break if he couldn't go `on the mash' as usual; and though he tried to seem very much hurt that he was not to stay, we could see he was greatly relieved.
Whatever it is, Booms's doleful face relaxes presently into a solemn smile, and Miss Crisp goes over and sits by Mrs Cruden, who puts her arm round the blushing girl and kisses her in a very motherly way on the forehead.
How often are the classes?" "Well, as often as we like. Generally once a week. Booms's washerwoman " "Whatever has she to do with shorthand?" asked Horace. "More than you think, my boy. She always takes eight days to wash his collars and cuffs. He sends them to her on Wednesdays, and gets them back on the next day week, so that we always practise shorthand on the Wednesday evening.
For nothing, not even a pickpocket at his gilt watch-chain with its pendant "charms," could lower his chin a quarter of an inch till bed-time. But more was yet to come. There were cuffs to put on, which left one to guess what had become of Mr Booms's knuckles, and a light jaunty necktie to embellish the "dicky."
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