He's been fooling it rather this term, you know, but he's a bit sick of it, and we thought you'd like to know, didn't we, young Jones minimus ?" "Yes, if you don't mind, Redwood," said I.
"Wait a bit--tea's just ready.

We'll have ours up here," said the captain.
Over tea Dicky trotted out my troubles second-hand to our host, appealing to me every now and then to confirm his statement that I'd rather "mucked" it over this and that, and so on.
Redwood nibbled away at his tea, looking up now and then with a friendly nod to show he agreed with all that was said about me.
When all was said, he remarked-- "I wouldn't worry, youngster, if I were you.

It's been a poor show last term, but you'll pull yourself together right enough.

Take my advice, and lie low a bit, that's the best thing for your complaint." "Why," said I, "that's just exactly what Tempest said to me." "There you are again," broke in Dicky, cutting himself a hunch of cake.
Presently Redwood began to "draw" me on the subject of Tempest, and looked rather blank when I told him of the dismal circumstances in which the term had closed at Sharpe's.

However, he did not favour Dicky and me with much comment on the matter, and finally got us to help him sharpen his skates and talk about other things.
I went to bed that night at Dicky's more easy and hopeful than I had been for weeks, and felt half-impatient for term to begin again, so that I might put into practice the new and trebly-patent specific of lying low..