My Dear Richardson, Heathcote, and Coote,--Pray do as you like.
Promises are never made to be kept by "Select Sociables" of your high
character. I do not understand what you mean about your row. What
row are you in? _Are_ you in a row? You don't call that little
matter that I am expecting to talk to the "Sociables" about on
Wednesday a row, do you? Please give my kind regards to Georgie
Heathcote, and tell him he will need to beg hard before I trouble him
to lay my cloth. No doubt he has given you many interesting stories
of the miserable week he spent with me last holidays in London. I'm
not surprised at his turning against me after that. I hope I shall
not have to tell anyone some of the stories he has told me of
Richardson and Coote. Excuse this long letter, and believe me, my
dear young jail-birds, your "affectionate" P. Pledge.
This bitter effusion was read next morning by the "Firm" as they walked
down to the "Tub." Its full sting did not come out till after three or
four careful perusals, and then the "Firm" looked blankly at one another
with lengthened faces.
"I couldn't believe any fellow could be such a cad," said Dick.
"It's jolly awkward!" said Heathcote. "You know he was awfully civil to
me in London, and it does seem low to be cutting him now."
"Civil, be hanged!" said Dick. "He tried to get hold of you to make a
cad of you, that's what he did; and you were precious near being one,
too, when you came back, weren't you?"
"Was I?" asked the humble Georgie.
"Rather," said Coote; "everybody said so."
"Well, of course," said Georgie, "if that's what he was driving at, it
doesn't matter so much."
"Except that it makes him all the bigger a cad."
"What on earth shall we do about the other thing?" asked Georgie.
"The row? We must cheek it, that's all. If he does us over the
'Sociable' election, we can't be helped."
"And suppose he gets us transported?"
"Can't do it, I tell you; my father will be up here, you know."