I was conscious of smiles as I went past the desks, some of recognition of the late owner of the tan boots, some of appreciation of my blushes, and others, as I supposed, of the greenness which had led all my companions to commit the fatal error of not appearing in gloves, and of my error, though in a smaller degree, of appearing in bright yellow two-button goods instead of lavender of the regulation half-dozen.
I exchanged glances with Tempest, among others, who looked very serious, and was evidently chagrined that after all his kind trouble on my behalf I should now land myself in this dilemma.

Good old Tempest! It wasn't his fault.
"Answer to your--" began Mr Sharpe, when, suddenly catching sight of me, he said-- "Why, sir, what nonsense is this?
What do you mean by wearing those gloves ?" "I beg your pardon, sir," I faltered, and felt that not a word of my speech was being lost by the assembled house; "I've left my lavender six-button gloves in my trunk." Mr Sharpe's mouth curled at the corner in a curious way, and a general titter greeted my explanation from the benches behind.
I was fully convinced now that, after all my care, the very solecism I had planned so carefully to avoid had tripped me up at last.
"Take them off at once, sir, and let me have no more of this foolishness.

You are making a bad start.

Were you not the boy I had to speak to in the hall this afternoon ?" "Yes, sir.

I am sorry I kicked your shins.