You did n’t do it to me—the way I did it to you. And you fellows rowed a great race; you ought to feel like celebrating—you ought n’t to feel any other way. Just think! You’re the only St. Timothy’s crew that ever rowed St. John’s to a standstill!”
“It’s just that that I don’t feel like celebrating,” said Edward. “I guess mother and father are waiting to see you, Charley.”
They were indeed; they were waiting with Sheldon just outside the boat-house, and near by were waiting a great throng of boys of both schools too.
When Edward and Charles emerged, Mrs. Crashaw started forward, with lips quivering and shining eyes; she caught Charles in her arms.
“My poor boy, my poor dear boy!” she murmured; she could n’t go on, she felt that in the presence of all those staring big and little boys she must control herself; so she bit her lip and pressed his hand and stood looking at him with a trembling smile.
He pressed hers in answer and said, “Thank
