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Pembury and his friends had quite expected that the Sixth would attempt a high-handed blow at their paper, and they were not disappointed. For no sooner had Loman and his peers stalked away from the scene of their indignation, and found themselves in the retirement of their own room, than they fell to talking in terms the reverse of pleasant about the event of the morning.
Then suddenly he added, "But it's not true! I'm certain of it! He couldn't do it! I'll never believe it of him!" Poor Wraysford! It was easier to say the generous words than feel them. Pembury looked in presently with a face far more serious and overcast than he usually wore. "I say, Wray," said he, in troubled tones, "I'm regularly floored by all this. Do you believe it?"
The principal stoves are of Godstone stone only, no iron or metal work being used. The architects are Messrs. Wadmore & Baker, of 35 Great St. Helens, E.C.; the builders, Messrs. Penn Brothers, of Pembury, Kent. Building News.
Loman, who since the last Dominican had not been on speaking terms with Pembury, did not vouchsafe a reply, "I do!" said Stephen, boldly. "Do you, really?" replied Pembury, looking round at the boy. "Perhaps you back yourself to talk when you're not spoken to, eh, Mr Greenhorn?" "Bravo! bravo! Well run, sir!
"Look here, you lame little wretch!" exclaimed Loman, in a passion; "if I have any more of your impudence I'll box your ears!" "I thought your wrist was sprained?" artlessly observed Pembury. "Here, young Paul, let's get behind you, there's a good fellow, I am in such a funk!"
The sight of Greenfield senior walking down the passage one day, arm-in-arm with Wraysford, and the next day with one arm in Wraysford's and the other in Pembury's, and the day after between Pembury and Bullinger, with Wraysford and Stephen in the rear, struck bewilderment and bitter jealousy to their hearts.
"I'm not a particular angel myself, but I've a notion if I had cheated a schoolfellow I should be a trifle off my grinning form; I don't know." This modest confession caused some amusement, and helped a good deal to restore the class to a better humour. "After all, I don't envy the fellow his feelings this minute," continued Pembury, following up his advantage.
I thought you saw the paper in Greenfield's pocket last term." "So I did. That is " Here the wretched poet was interrupted by a general laugh, in the midst of which he modestly retired to the background, and left the Fifth to solve the riddle in hand by themselves. "Suppose," began Pembury, after a pause "suppose, when Braddy's done playing the fool, if such a time ever comes "
Stephen said nothing, but kept his hand on the pot, and awaited what was to follow. The hero stepped back a pace or two, to allow of a run worthy of the coming kick; and what might have happened no one knows. At that moment the door opened, and Pembury entered on his crutches. At sight of this Fifth Form celebrity the Tadpole cringed and cowered, and tried to sneak out of the study unobserved.
"I tell you you're a liar to say so!" again he exclaimed. "He's not a cheat, I tell you; he never cheated. You're a pack of liars, all of you!" "I say, draw it mild, Wray, you know," interposed Pembury. "You needn't include me in your compliments." Wraysford glared at him a moment and then coloured slightly. "You don't call Oliver a cheat?" he said, inquiringly.
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