Montagu's hesitation was but momentary, and without a particle of anger
or indignation he sorrowfully held out his hand. It was too late; that
moment had done the mischief, and it was now Eric's turn coldly
to withdraw.
"You don't think me worthy of your friendship, and what's the good of
grasping hands if we don't do it with cordial hearts?"
Montagu's lip trembled, but he said nothing, and quietly putting on his
coat, waved back the throng of boys with a proud sweep of his arm, and
left the room with Duncan.
"Come along, Wright," he said.
"Nay, leave him," said Eric with a touch of remorse. "Much as you think
me beneath you, I have honor enough to see that no one hurts him."
The group of boys gradually dispersed, but one or two remained with
Eric, although he was excessively wearied by their observations.
"You didn't fight half like yourself," said Wildney.
"Can't you tell why? I had the wrong side to fight for." And getting up
abruptly, he left the room, to be alone in his study, and bathe his
swollen and aching face.
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