If he doesn't write and send up the money I shall be surprised." Poor Jack! A lot he knew about uncles of my sort! However, I felt more comfortable to have written the letter, and if I could only have been sure Wallop's threat was mere idle bluster I should have slept easily.
As it was, I had had rather a stirring day for my first one out, and at the end of it felt a good deal less game for work than at the beginning.
Nothing could exceed Jack's tenderness and anxiety to relieve me of as much worry as possible.

When I was in bed he came and read aloud to me.
It was Virgil he read--which he was working at for his examination.
And I remember that evening lying half awake, half asleep, listening now to him, thinking now of my debts, mixing up Aeneas with Wallop, and Mr Shoddy with Laocoon, and poor old Priam with my uncle.
The following morning I rose only half refreshed, and made my way anxiously to the office.

One of the first fellows I met was Wallop, who greeted my approach with a surly grin.
I felt sure at that moment he had meant what he threatened yesterday, and my heart quailed within me at the prospect.
"Well, young prig," said he, "I suppose you've brought my money ?" "No," said I; "I'm afraid I must ask you to wait a little longer.

I hope you won't do anything for a day or two, at any rate.

I will do my best to get it by then." He laughed in my face, and evidently enjoyed my distress.
"You sung a different tune yesterday, my boy, when you hit me.