I was to return to Crayshaw's at once; he could not afford the expensive school for us both, and Jem was the eldest.

Besides which, he was not going to countenance rebellion in any school to which he sent his sons, or to insult a man so highly recommended to him as Mr.Crayshaw had been.
There certainly seemed to have been some severity, and the boys seemed to be a very rough lot; but Jem would fight, and if he gave he must take.

His great-grandfather was just the same, and _he_ fought the Putney Pet when he was five-and-twenty, and his parents thought he was sitting quietly at his desk in Fetter Lane.
I loved Jem too well to be jealous of him, but I was not the less conscious of the tender tone in which my father always spoke even of his faults, and of the way it stiffened and cooled when he added that I was not so ready with my fists, but that I was as fond of my own way as Jem was of a fight; but that setting up for being unlike other people didn't do for school life, and that the Woods had done me no kindness by making a fool of me.

He added, however, that he should request Mr.
Crayshaw, as a personal favour, that I should receive no punishment for running away, as I had suffered sufficiently already.
We had told very little of the true history of Crayshaw's before Jem fainted, and I felt no disposition to further confidences.

I took as cheerful a farewell of my mother as I could, for her sake; and put on a good deal of swagger and "don't care" to console Jem.