Thereupon he charged me with a lengthy epistle, which plunged us into boiling water.

Mr.
Boddy sat in the schoolroom while Heriot's pen was at work, on the wet Sunday afternoon.

His keen little eyes were busy in his flat bird's head all the time Heriot continued writing.

He saw no more than that Heriot gave me a book; but as I was marching away to Julia he called to know where I was going.
'To Miss Rippenger,' I replied.
'What have you there ?' 'A book, sir.' 'Show me the book.' I stood fast.
'It 's a book I have lent him, sir,' said Heriot, rising.

'I shall see if it's a fit book for a young boy,' said Boddy; and before Heriot could interpose, he had knocked the book on the floor, and out fell the letter.