Instead of answering, Barker stared at him, and grunted,

"What's your name?"

"Eric--I mean Williams."

"Then why don't you say what you mean?"

Eric moved his foot impatiently at this ungracious reception; but as he
seemed to have no redress, he pulled the Cesar nearer towards him.

"Drop that; 't isn't yours."

Mr. Gordon heard a whisper, and glanced that way. "Silence!" he said,
and Barker pretended to be deep in his work, while Eric, resigning
himself to his fate, looked about him.

He had plenty to occupy his attention in the faces round him. He
furtively examined Mr. Gordon, as he bent over his high desk, writing,
but couldn't make our the physiognomy. There had been something reserved
and imperious in the master's manner, yet he thought he should not
dislike him on the whole. With the countenances of his future
schoolfellows he was not altogether pleased, but there were one or two
which thoroughly attracted him. One boy, whose side face was turned
towards him as he sat on the bench in front, took his fancy
particularly, so, tired of doing nothing, he plucked up courage, and
leaning forward whispered, "Do lend me your Cesar for a few minutes."
The boy at once handed it to him with a pleasant smile, and as the
lesson was marked, Eric had time to hurry over a few sentences, when Mr.
Gordon's sonorous voice exclaimed,