“Look here, Hexam.” Mr. Bradley Headstone, highly certificated stipendiary schoolmaster, drew his right forefinger through one of the buttonholes of the boy’s coat, and looked at it attentively. “I hope your sister may be good company for you?”

“Why do you doubt it, Mr. Headstone?”

“I did not say I doubted it.”

“No, sir; you didn’t say so.”

Bradley Headstone looked at his finger again, took it out of the buttonhole and looked at it closer, bit the side of it and looked at it again.

“You see, Hexam, you will be one of us. In good time you are sure to pass a creditable examination and become one of us. Then the question is⁠—”