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 The Complete Guide to
Blender Graphics
BlenderTM is a free Open-Source 3D Computer Modeling and Animation Suite incorporating
Character Rigging, Particles, Real World Physics Simulation, Sculpting, Video Editing with Motion
Tracking and 2D Animation within the 3D Environment.

Blender is FREE to download and use by anyone for anything.

The Complete Guide to Blender Graphics: Computer Modeling and Animation, Eighth
Edition is a unified manual describing the operation of the program, updated with reference to
the Graphical User Interface for Blender Version 3.2.2, including additional material covering
Blender Assets, Geometry Nodes, and Non-Linear Animation.

Divided into a two-volume set, the book introduces the program’s Graphical User Interface and
shows how to implement tools for modeling and animating characters and created scenes with
the application of color, texture, and special lighting effects.

Key Features:
• T he book provides instruction for New Users starting at the very beginning.
• Instruction is presented in a series of chapters incorporating visual reference to
the program’s interface.
• The initial chapters are designed to instruct the user in the operation of the
program while introducing and demonstrating interesting features of the program.
• Chapters are developed in a building block fashion providing forward and reverse
reference to relevant material.
Both volumes are available in a discounted set, which can also be purchased together with
Blender 2D Animation: The Complete Guide to the Grease Pencil.

Abut the author

John M. Blain has become a recognised expert in Blender having seven successful prior
editions of this book to date. John became enthused with Blender on retirement from a
career in Mechanical Engineering. The Complete Guide to Blender Graphics originated from
personal notes compiled in the course of self-learning. The notes were recognized as an
ideal instruction source by Neal Hirsig, Senior Lecturer (Retired) at Tufts University. Neal
encouraged publication of the First Edition and in doing so is deserving of the author’s
gratitude. Gratitude must also be extended to the author’s wife Helen for her continuing
encouragement and patience as new editions of the book are compiled.
The Complete Guide to
Blender Graphics
Computer Modeling
& Animation
EIGHTH EDITION

Volume 1

JOHN M. BLAIN

Boca Raton London New York

CRC Press is an imprint of the

Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
AN A K PETERS BOOK
Eight edition published 2024
by CRC Press
2385 Executive Center Drive, Suite 320, Boca Raton, FL 33431

and by CRC Press

4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN

CRC Press is an imprint of Taylor & Francis Group, LLC

© 2024 John M. Blain

First edition published by AK Peters 2012

Second edition published by AK Peters 2014
Third edition published by AK Peters 2016
Fourth edition published by AK Peters 2017
Fifth edition published by AK Peters 2019
Sixth edition published by AK Peters 2020
Seventh edition published by AK Peters 2022

Reasonable efforts have been made to publish reliable data and information, but the author and publisher cannot
assume responsibility for the validity of all materials or the consequences of their use. The authors and publishers
have attempted to trace the copyright holders of all material reproduced in this publication and apologize to
copyright holders if permission to publish in this form has not been obtained. If any copyright material has not
been acknowledged, please write and let us know so we may rectify in any future reprint.

Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Law, no part of this book may be reprinted, reproduced, transmitted, or
utilized in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including
photocopying, microfilming, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without written
permission from the publishers.

For permission to photocopy or use material electronically from this work, access www.copyright.com or contact
the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc. (CCC), 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, 978-750-8400. For works
that are not available on CCC please contact [email protected]

Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks and are used only for
identification and explanation without intent to infringe.

ISBN: 978-1-032-51058-3 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-1-032-51060-6 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-003-40091-2 (ebk)

DOI: 10.1201/9781003400912

Publisher’s note: This book has been prepared from camera-ready copy provided by the authors.
Contents
CH01 Understanding the Interface 1

The Interface 1
1.1 Examining the Interface 3
1.2 First Interaction 4
1.3 Quit Blender 5
1.4 Getting Help 7
1.5 The Interface – Figure 1.1 8
1.6 Further Examination 8
1.7 3D Viewport Work Modes 10
1.8 Rotating in 3D Space 12
1.9 Other Objects 13
1.10 Using the Outliner Editor 15
1.11 Working in the 3D Viewport (Object Mode) 15
1.12 Working in the 3D Viewport (Edit Mode) 16
1.13 Adding Vertices by Subdivision 18
1.14 The Last Operator Panel 18
1.15 Using the Properties Editor 19
1.16 Making a Plan - Storyboard 23
1.17 Camera View 24
1.18 Quick Effects 24
1.19 Something to Burn 24
1.20 Saving Work to Start Over 25
1.21 Lighting the Fire 25
1.22 Smoke and Fire - Quick Effect 26
1.23 Animating Suzanne 28
1.24 Render 30
1.25 Summary 30

CH02 Editors – Workspaces - Themes 31

2.1 Editor Types 32

2.2 Resizing Editors 32
2.3 Splitting Editors 33
2.4 Cancel an Editor 34
2.5 3D Viewport Features 34
2.6 Scene Manipulation 36
2.7 Scene Manipulation Widget 39
2.8 Multiple Scenes 40
2.9 Headers Menus and Panels 42
2.10 Headers and Panels 42
2.11 The Blender Interface Header 42
2.12 The Blender Screen Header 43
 2.13 The 3D Viewport Header 44
2.14 The Widget Panel 44
2.15 The Tool Panel and Object Properties Panel 45
2.16 Properties Editor Tabs 46
2.17 The Preferences Editor 47
2.18 3D Viewport Editor - Background Color 48
2.19 Workspaces 49
2.20 Creating New Workspaces 49
2.21 Themes 51
2.22 Saving a Theme 54

CH03 Navigate and Save 55

3.1 Files and Folders 56

3.2 Saving a File 57
3.3 Windows File Explorer 58
3.4 Windows File Explorer Diagram 59
3.5 Blender File Browser 60
3.6 Opening Files 61
3.7 File Browser Header Features 62
3.8 Make a New Folder 62
3.9 Display Options 62
3.10 Saving Your Work 63
3.11 The Concept of Files 64
3.12 The Append or Link Command 64
3.13 Importing Objects 65
3.14 Activating Import File Types 66
3.15 Packing Data.........................................................................67

CH04 Objects in the 3D View Editor 69

4.1 Workflow Philosophy 70

4.2 Starting a New File 70
4.3 Modifying the Scene 71
4.4 Object Mode and Edit Mode 71
4.5 3D Viewport Cursor 72
4.6 Selecting and Deselecting Objects 72
4.7 Adding Objects 74
4.8 Object Primitives 74
4.9 Locating the 3D Viewport Editor Cursor 75
4.10 Deleting Objects 76
4.11 Duplicating Objects 76
4.12 Object Mode Manipulation 77
4.13 The Last Operator Panel 77
4.14 Tool Panel – Widgets 78
4.15 Manipulation Units 79
4.16 Measuring Ruler / Protractor 80
4.17 Precision Manipulation 81
 4.18 Camera View........................................................................ 82
4.19 Other Types of Objects 82
4.20 Naming Objects 83
4.21 The Header Button Menus 84
4.22 Meta Shapes 85
4.23 Coloring Objects 87

CH05 Editing Objects 89

5.1 The Mesh Object 90

5.2 Edit Mode Selecting 90
5.3 Selecting Vertices, Edges and Faces 92
5.4 Manipulating Selected Vertices, Edges and Faces 92
5.5 Creating Vertices by Subdivision 93
5.6 Adding and Deleting Vertices, Edges, or Faces 95
5.7 Center Points 97
5.8 Joining and Separating 98
5.9 Creating Vertex Groups 101
5.10 Proportional Vertex Editing 103
5.11 Inset Faces 104
5.12 Parenting 106

CH06 Editing Tools 107

6.1 The Edit Mode Tool Panel 108

6.2 The Add Menu 108
6.3 Last Operator Panels 109
6.4 Extrusion 109
6.5 The Extrude Region Tool. 110
6.6 Inset Faces 111
6.7 The Inset Faces Tool 111
6.8 The Bevel Tool 111
6.9 Edge and Loop Selection 112
6.10 Loop Cut Tool 112
6.11 The Knife Tool 114
6.12 The Poly Build Tool 115
6.13 The Spin Tool 115
6.14 Creating a Spin Profile 116
6.15 Spin Duplication 118
6.16 The Screw Tool 119
6.17 The Smooth and Randomize Tools 120
6.18 The Edge Slide And Vertex SlideTool 121
6.19 The Shrink Fatten Tool 121
6.20 The Shear Tool 121
6.21 The Rip Region Tool. 122
CH07 Editing with Modifiers 123

7.1 Modifiers in General 124

7.2 The Modifier Stack 128
7.3 The Modify Group 128
7.4 The Generate Group 129
7.5 The Deform Group 130
7.6 The Physics Group 132

CH08 Editing Techniques - Examples 133

8.1 Proportional Editing 134

8.2 Dupliverts 136
8.3 Modeling Exercise – Aircraft 138
8.4 Sculpting 141
8.5 Sculpting Demonstration 143
8.6 Creating a Humanoid Figure 146

CH09 Materials - Textures - Nodes 149

9.1 Material Definition 149

9.2 Materials in Practice 150
9.3 Materials and the Shader Editor 154
9.4 Adding Material Properties 155
9.5 Alternative Material Assignment 156
9.6 Multiple Material Datablocks 157
9.7 The Material Slot 157
9.8 The Color Picker 159
9.9 Material Display 159
9.10 Lighting Affects on Materials 160
9.11 Materials using Nodes 161
9.12 A Simple Node Arrangement 162
9.13 Accessing and Viewing Node Effects 162
9.14 Noodle Curving 166
9.15 The Shader Editor 166
9.16 The Shader Node Menu........................................................167
9.17 Adding Nodes 168
9.18 The Shading Workspace 168
9.19 Scene Arrangements 169
9.20 Mixing Material Example 169
9.21 The Principled BSDF Node 170
9.22 The Color Ramp Node 173
9.23 Saving Screen Space 176
9.24 Vertex Paint 177
CH10 Textures 189

10.1 Procedural Texture 190

10.2 Adding Texture Nodes 193
10.3 Image as a Texture 194
10.4 Texture Mapping 196
10.5 Unwrapping Options 198
10.6 PBR Textures 199
10.7 Texture Properties – Properties Editor 206
10.8 Texture Painting 209
10.9 Texture Displacement 213

CH11 Node Systems and Usage 215

11.1 Compositing Nodes 216

11.2 Texture Nodes 221
11.3 The Geometry Node Editor 223
11.4 Transparency 229
11.5 Volumetric Lighting 231

CH12 Scene Lighting & Cameras 235

12.1 Scene Lighting 236

12.2 Light Type 236
12.3 Cameras 240
12.4 Camera Settings 242
12.5 Camera Switching 245
12.6 Camera Tracking 247
17.7 Basic Lighting Arrangement 247
12.8 Background Scene Lighting 249
12.9 Images as a Background 250
12.10 Volumetric Lighting 254

CH13 Viewport Shading 255

13.1 Viewport Shading Options 256

13.2 Wireframe Viewport Shading 256
13.3 Solid Viewport Shading 258
13.4 Color Display Options 260
13.5 Background Displays 262
13.6 More Solid Viewport Shading 263
13.7 Rendered Viewport Shading 264
13.8 Material Preview Shading 265
13.9 World Settings 266
13.10 Simplified Viewport Shading 266
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CH14 Rendering 267

14.1 Rendering with Eevee 268

14.2 Output Properties 270
14.3 The Format Tab 270
14.4 The Output Tab 272
14.5 Rendering a JPEG Image 273
14.6 Rendering an Animation 273
14.7 Rendering a Movie File 275
14.8 Video Playback 275
14.9 Video Codecs 276
14.10 Making a Movie 276

CH15 Animation 277

15.1 Animation in the 3D Viewport 278

15.2 Movement in the 3D View Editor 278
15.3 Planning the Animation 279
15.4 Keyframes Time and Interpolation 280
15.5 Animation Speed and Length 281
15.6 Repositioning the Timeline Cursor 282
15.7 Inserting Keyframes 283
15.8 Scrubbing the Animation 285
15.9 Playing the Animation 285
15.10 Adding Keyframes 286
15.11 Automatic Keyframing 286
15.12 Controlling the Animations 287
15.13 The Dope Sheet Editor 288
15.14 The Graph Editor 289
15.15 Graph Editor Components and Commands 294
15.16 Selecting the Curve in the Graph Editor 295
15.17 Rotation – Euler Rotation. 296
15.18 The Graph Editor Cursor 297
15.19 Editing the Curve in the Graph Editor 298
15.20 Editing the Curve in the Dope Sheet Timeline 299
15.21 Scaling in the Dope Sheet 302
15.22 Other Types of Curves 303
15.23 The Curve Properties Panel 306
15.24 Animating Rotation 307
15.25 Rotation Using F-Curves 310
15.26 Animating Other Features 312
15.27 Keying Sets 313
15.28 Animation Follow Path 315
15.29 Evaluation Time 317
15.30 Keyframing 319
15.31 Displacement Sound Animations 322
15.32 Sound Effect and Cast Modifier 326
15.33 The Animation Workspace 328
CH16 Armatures & Character Rigging 329

16.1 Single Bone Armature 330

16.2 Adding Armatures 331
16.3 Adding Bones 332
16.4 The Armature Rig 333
16.5 Multiple Armatures 335
16.6 Child Parent Relationship 336
16.7 Armature Display Types 337
16.8 Building an Armature Rig 337
16.9 The Extrude Tool 343
16.10 Deforming a Mesh 344
16.11 Parenting with The Armature Modifier 345
16.12 Assigning Vertices – Vertex Groups 347
16.13 Assigning Vertices – Set Parent To Menu 349
16.14 Assigning Vertices – Weight Paint 350
16.15 Inverse Kinematics Constraint 352
16.16 Spline IK Constraint 355
16.17 Forward 356
16.18 Character Rigging 357
16.19 Bone Naming 366
16.20 Assigning the Mesh 367
16.21 Vertex Groups 368
16.22 Posing the Character Model 369
16.23 Pre-Assembled Armatures 371

CH17 3D Text 373

17.1 Creating 3D Text in Blender 374

17.2 The Object Data Properties “ a ” 376
17.3 Fonts 377
17.4 Creating Text on a Curve 380
17.5 Converting Text to a Mesh Object 381
17.6 Converting Text to a Curve 381
17.7 Entering External Font 382

CH18 Making a Movie 385

18.1 Making a Movie 386

18.2 Storyboard 386
18.3 The Video Files 386
18.4 The Sound File 387
18.5 Video Editing Workspace 387
18.6 File Browser Editor 388
18.7 Preparation 389
18.8 Video Sequence Editor 390
18.9 Rendering the Movie File 395
18.10 Additional Features 395
CH19 The Outliner and Collections 399

19.1 Collections in The Outliner Editor 400

19.2 View Options in the Outliner Editor 403

Index...................................................................................... 405
Introduction
The Complete Guide to Blender Graphics - 8 th Edition provides instruction in the use of the
Computer Graphics 3D Program Blender. The book has been compiled in two separate volumes
with Volume 1 being inclusive of all material allowing a new user to obtain, install and operate the
program. Volume 2 is complementary to Volume 1 encompassing some of the more advanced
aspects of the program. The books are an operation manual for those who wish to undertake a
learning experience and discover a wonderful creative new world of computer graphics. The
books also serve as a reference for established operators.

Instructions throughout the books introduce Blender's features with examples and diagrams
referenced to the Graphical User Interface (GUI).

The Graphical User Interface is the arrangement of windows or panels displayed on the
computer Screen when the program is in operation.

The Complete Guide to Blender Graphics originated when Blender's Graphical User Interface
was transformed with the release of Blender version 2.50. Subsequent editions of the book have
kept pace with developments to the program and have included new material.

The 8th Edition of The Complete Guide to Blender Graphics is applicable to:
Blender Version 3.2.2

The Blender program is maintained by the Blender Foundation and released as Open Source
Software which is available for download and FREE to be used for any purpose.

The program may be downloaded from: www.blender.org

Blender is a 3D Computer Graphics Program with tools for modeling and animating objects and
characters and creating background scenes. Scenes may be made into still images. Animated
sequences may be used for video production. Models and Scenes are enhanced with color and
texture producing brilliant realistic effects. The still images and video may be for artistic
appreciation or employed as architectural or scientific presentations. There are also tools for 2D
animation production. Stand-alone models may be used for 3D Printing.

I
The Complete Guide to Blender Graphics provides a fantastic learning experience in
Computer Graphics using Blender, by introducing the operation of the Blender program
through the use of its Graphical user Interface. The book is intended to be read in conjunction
with having the program in operation, with the interface displayed.

Instruction is presented using the tools displayed in the Graphical User Interface, with basic
examples demonstrating results. Understanding where tools are located, their uses and how they
are implemented will allow the reader to more easily follow detailed instruction in the many
written and video tutorials available on the Internet.

Instruction provided on the internet in the form of written and video tutorials is integral to the
compendium of Blender learning material. Although comprehensive, The Complete Guide to
Blender Graphics is limited by the number of pages in a single volume. The internet vastly
expands the knowledge base of learning material.

Important: The Blender Program is continually being developed with new features being added
and improvements to the interface and operation procedures being amended. When reading
instructions or viewing video tutorials the version of the Blender program for which the instruction
is written should be considered.

Program Evolution

Blender is continually evolving. New versions of the program are released as additions and
changes are incorporated, therefore, it is advisable to check the Blender website, from time to
time for the latest version.

At each release of Blender, a different Splash Screen Image is displayed in the interface.

Blender Version 3.2.2

II
Earlier versions of the program and documentation may be obtained which provide valuable
information when you are conversant with the current release of the program. Video tutorials
available on the internet may not strictly adhere to the current user interface or workflow. Major
transformations occurred when the program changed from version 2.49 to 2.50 and again at the
change from version 2.79 to version 2.82. Since 2.82 development has continued.

Previous releases of the Blender program may be downloaded at:

https://download.blender.org/release/
Blender Features

A comprehensive display of the Blender features is available at:

www.blender.org/features/

Blender Platforms

A computing platform or digital platform is the environment in which a piece of software is

executed. It may be the hardware or the operating system (OS)

Blender is a cross-platform application for Windows , Linux and MacOS operating systems.

The operation of Blender in The Complete Guide to Blender Graphics applies to all operating
platforms but operations ancillary to the program, such as saving work to the computer's hard
drive, have been described exclusively using a Windows operating system.

System Requirements

The System Requirements to run Blender are usually expressed in terms of computer power
alone but the hardware package employed also determines the results that can be achieved.

To try Blender you do not have to outlay thousands of dollars on expensive computers and
monitors. The Blender software is free to download and use for anything you wish and may be
run on a modest laptop or PC.

III
The equipment you employ will depend on your aspirations and at what level you wish to operate
Blender. Blender is a fantastic program that is capable of producing amazing results but a new
user should be aware that the fantastic displays depicted in demonstration reels will not be
achieved unless a computer with sufficient power and a display screen (monitor) to match is
available.

Give the program a go no matter what equipment you have. When you see what Blender can do
you will be surprised, then you can go get all that super gear and expand your horizons to the
limit.

As a starter the following equipment specifications are offered:

General Equipment

A Laptop or Desktop PC both with a Three Button Mouse connected. You may use the Laptop
touchpad but Blender is designed for Mouse operation. A Laptop screen will suffice to start with
but a reasonably large Monitor is preferable. You will discover that, as you progress, multiple
monitors make life a whole heap better.

The following specifications are found on the Blender website:

Ready for Action. Runs anywhere

Whether it's on a USB stick, sitting on a folder on your Blender is cross-platform, it runs on every major operating
desktop, or fully installed, Blender runs out of the box. system:

No installation needed. Windows 8.1, 10, and 11

No internet connection required.
MacOS 10.13 Intel – 11.0 Apple Silicon

Linux

All efforts to make Blender work on specific configurations are welcome, but can only officially be supported by those
used by active developers.

For Windows, there is an installer available if you wish to add an icon on the desktop, associate .blend file extension, etc.

Hardware Requirements
Minimum Recommended

64-bit quad core CPU with SSE2 support 64-bit eight core CPU
8 GB RAM 32 GB RAM
Full HD display 2561440 display
Mouse, trackpad or pen+tablet Three button mouse or pen-tablet
Graphics card with 2 GB RAM, OpenGL 4.3 Graphics card with 8 GB RAM
Less than 10 year old

Hardware requirements are generally referring to the speed or power of your computer in terms
of how many cores the CPU has (Central Processing Unit) and the amount of memory (RAM)
available. To run a program, in basic terms, information is first stored (installed) on the hard drive.

IV
When you run the program information is transferred to memory (RAM). If there is not enough
RAM available only some of the information gets transferred, therefore, the computer has to
swap information between the hard drive and memory as the program is run. This slows the
process down. The more RAM you have the better.

With a graphics program, running the program entails processing which creates a visual display
on the computer screen. This process is called Rendering. Again, generally speaking, you may
consider the running of the program to be done by the Central Processing Unit (CPU) which will
include Rendering. Rendering may be much faster if the processing is performed by the GPU
which is a dedicated processing unit incorporated in the Graphics Card. A GPU has its own
dedicated RAM.

Having an adequate Graphics Card with enough power and RAM is, therefore, an important
consideration.

Blender Supported Graphics Cards

Previous Versions of Blender

As previously stated, Blender is continually evolving with new versions being released. To fully
utilise internet material you may find it advantageous to study older tutorials by installing previous
Blender versions. Previous versions of the program can be obtained at:

https://download.blender.org/release/

Installation
Note: You may install multiple versions of Blender on you PC. See; Download and Installation.

V
Download & Installation
Download Blender from: www.blender.org

Click to display
Download Options

Select the current Blender version which applies to your operating system. Blender is available
for Windows, MacOS, Linux and Steam.

Clicking the download button on a Windows operating system saves the Installer Package to
the Downloads Folder.

Download Options

The options are available to

download a .msi installer
package or a ZIP Archive for
Windows and packages for
other Operating Systems.

VII
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Exploring the Variety of Random
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which the course of the courtship had tended, that point when a kiss is
involuntary, that point that can never come again. But just as his hands
stretched out to her the band struck up; he rested his hand on hers and
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“We shall have to go,” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“But the next but one.”
“No. 16.”
But the magic of that one moment had passed; they had left behind them
the possibility of spontaneous action. They were no longer part of the
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when the time came he was both nervous and self-conscious. The magic
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would never forgive him; that there was nothing in it; that he had kissed
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to make a bet with himself, to say, “I’ll count ten and then I’ll do it.” He
stretched out his hand to hers, and it lay in his limp and uninspired.
“April,” he whispered, “April.”
She turned her head from him. He leaned forward, hesitated for a
moment, then kissed her awkwardly upon the neck. She did not move. He
felt he must do something. He put his arm round her, trying to turn her face
to his, but she pulled away from him. He tried to kiss her, and his chin
scratched the soft skin of her cheek, his nose struck hers, her mouth half
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She pushed him away angrily.
“Go away! go away!” she said. “What are you doing? What do you mean
by it? I hate you; go away!”
All the excitement of the evening turned into violent hatred; she was half
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“But, April, I’m sorry, April.”
“Oh, go away; leave me alone, leave me alone.”
“But, April.” He put his hand upon her arm, and she swung round upon
him fiercely.
“Didn’t I tell you I wanted to be left alone? I don’t know how you dared.
Do leave me.”
She walked quickly past him into the ballroom, and seeing Ralph at the
far end of it went up and asked him, to that young gentleman’s exhilarated
amazement, whether he was free for No. 17, and if he was whether he
would like to dance it with her. She wore a brave smile through the rest of
the evening and danced all her five extras.
But when she was home again, had climbed the silent stairs, and turning
up the light in her bedroom saw, lying on the floor, the discarded green and
yellow dress, she broke down, and flinging herself upon the bed sobbed
long and bitterly. She was not angry with Roland, nor her mother, nor even
with herself, but with life, with that cruel force that had filled her with such
eager, boundless expectation, only in the end to fling her down, to trample
on her happiness, to mock her disenchantment. Never as long as she lived
would she forget the shame, the unspeakable shame, and degradation of that
evening.

CHAPTER V

A POTENTIAL DIPLOMAT

R OLAND returned to school with the uncomfortable feeling that he had

not made the most of his holidays. He had failed with April; he had not
been on the best of terms with Ralph; and he had found the last week or
so—after the Saundersons’ dance—a little tedious. He was never sorry to go
back to school; on this occasion he was positively glad.
In many ways the Easter term was the best of the three; it was agreeably
short; there were the house matches, the steeplechases, the sports and then,
at the end of it, spring; those wonderful mornings at the end of March when
one awoke to see the courts vivid with sunshine, the lindens trembling on
the verge of green; when one thought of the summer and cricket and
bathing and the long, cool evenings. And as Howard had now left, there was
nothing to molest his enjoyment of these good things.
He decided, after careful deliberation, to keep it up with Dolly. There
had been moments during the holidays when he had sworn to break with
her; it would be quite easy now that Howard had left. And often during an
afternoon in April’s company the idea of embracing Dolly had been
repulsive to him. But he had been piqued by April’s behavior at the dance,
and his conduct was not ordered by a carefully-thought-out code of morals.
He responded to the atmosphere of the moment; his emotion, while the
moment that inspired it lasted, was sincere.
And so every Sunday afternoon he used to bicycle out towards Yeovil
and meet Dolly on the edge of a little wood. They would wheel their
machines inside and sit together in the shelter of the hedge. They did not
talk much; there was not much for them to discuss. But she would take off
her hat and lean her head against his shoulder and let him kiss her as much
as he wanted. She was not responsive, but then Roland hardly expected it.
His small experience of the one-sided romances of school life had led him
to believe that love was a thing of male desire and gracious, womanly
compliance. He never thought that anyone would want to kiss him. He
would look at his reflection in the glass and marvel at the inelegance of his
features—an ordinary face with ordinary eyes, ordinary nose, ordinary
mouth. Of his hair certainly he was proud; it was a triumph. But he doubted
whether Dolly appreciated the care with which he had trained it to lie back
from his forehead in one immaculate wave. She had, indeed, asked him to
give up brilliantine.
“It’s so hard and smarmy,” she complained; “I can’t run my fingers
through it.”
The one good point about him was certainly lost on Dolly. He wondered
whether April liked it. April and Dolly! It was hard to think of the two
together. What would April say if she were to hear about Dolly? It was the
theme Ralph was always driving at him like a nail, with heavy, ponderous
blows. An interesting point. What would April say? He considered the
question, not as a possible criticism of his own conduct, but as the material
for an intriguing, dramatic situation. It would be hard to make her see the
difference. “I’m a girl and she’s a girl and you want to kiss us both.” That
was how she would look at it, probably—so illogical. One might as well say
that water was the same thing and had the same effect as champagne.
Ridiculous! But it would be hard to make April see it.
And there was a difference, big difference; he felt it before a fortnight of
the new term had passed. In spite of the kisses he was never moved by
Dolly’s presence as he was by April’s. His blood was calm—calmer, far
calmer, than it had been last term. He never felt now that excitement, that
dryness of the throat that used to assail him in morning chapel towards the
end of the Litany. Something had passed, and it was not solely April,
though, no doubt, she had formed a standard in his mind and had her share
in this disenchantment. It was more than that. In a subtle way, although he
had hardly exchanged a dozen words with her in his life, he missed Betty.
He had enjoyed more than he had realized at the time those moments of
meeting and parting, when the four of them had stood together, awkward,
embarrassed, waiting for someone to suggest a separation. It had always
been Betty who had done it, with a toss of her head: “Come on, Dolly, time
to be getting on”; or else: “Now, then, Dolly, isn’t it time you were taking
your Roland away with you?” And what a provocative, infinitely suggestive
charm that slow smile of hers had held for him. The thrill of it had borne
him triumphantly over the preliminaries of courtship. He missed it now, and
often he found himself talking of her to Dolly.
“Did she really like Howard?” he asked her once.
“Yes, I think so; in fact, I know she did. Though I couldn’t see what she
saw in him myself. I suppose there was something about him. She misses
him quite a lot, so she says.”
This statement Roland considered an excellent cue for an exchange of
gallantries.
“But wouldn’t you miss me if I went?”
Dolly, however, was greatly interested in her own subject.
“Yes,” she went on, “she seems really worried. Only the other day she
said to me: ‘Dolly, I can’t get on without that boy. There’s nothing to look
forward to of a Sunday now, and I get so tired of my work.’ And when I
said to her: ‘But, my dear Betty, there’s hundreds more fish in the sea. What
about young Rogers at the post office?’ she answers: ‘Oh, him! my boy’s
spoilt me for all that. I can’t bear the sight of young Rogers any more.’
Funny, isn’t it?”
Roland agreed with her. To him it was amazing.
“Well,” Dolly went on, “I saw quite clearly that there was nothing for it
but that she must get hold of another young chap like your friend. And I
asked her if there was anyone else up at the school she fancied, and she
said, yes, there was; a boy she’s seen you talking to once or twice; a young,
fair-haired fellow with a blue and yellow hat ribbon. That’s the best I can
do. Is that any help to you? Would you know him?”
A blue and yellow hat ribbon limited the selection to members of the
School XI., and there was only one old color who answered to that
description—Brewster in Carus Evans’.
“Oh, yes, I know him.”
“Well, now, don’t you think you could arrange it? Do, for my sake.”
“But I don’t know him well enough. I don’t see how I could.”
“Oh, yes, you do. Haven’t I seen you talking together, and he would be
only too pleased. I am sure he would. Betty’s such a nice girl. Now, do try.”
Roland promised that he would do his best, though it was not a job he
particularly fancied. Brewster was the youngest member of the XI. He had
been playing on lower side games all the season without attracting any
attention and had then surprised everyone by making a century in an
important house match. He was immediately transplanted to the first, and
though he played in only two matches he was considered to have earned his
colors. He was not, however, in any sense of the word a blood. He was
hardly known by men of Roland’s standing in other houses. He was low in
form and not particularly brilliant at football. Roland knew next to nothing
about him. Still it was a fascinating situation—a girl like Betty, who must
be a good three years older than Dolly, getting keen on such a kid. Was she
in love, he wondered. He had never met anyone who had enjoyed the
privilege of having a girl in love with him. For towards the end he had
believed very little of all that Howard had told him. This was distinctly an
intriguing affair. And so he set himself to his task.
The difficulty, of course, was to find the auspicious moment. He hardly
ever saw Brewster except when there were a lot of other people about, and
he didn’t want to ask him across to his study. People would talk; and,
besides, it would not do to spring this business on him suddenly. He would
have to lead up to it carefully. For a whole week he sought, unsuccessfully,
for an opportunity, and on the Sunday he had to confess to Dolly that he
was no nearer the attainment of her friend’s desires.
“It’s not as easy as you seem to think it is. We are not in the same house,
we are not in the same form, and we don’t play footer on the same ground.
In fact, except that we happen to be in the same school——”
“Now! now! now! Haven’t I seen you talking to him alone twice before I
even mentioned him to you? And if you could be alone with him then, when
you had no particular reason to, surely you can manage to be now, when
you have.”
“But, my dear Dolly——”
“There’ve not got to be any buts. Either you bring along your friend or
it’s all over between us.”
It was not a very serious threat, and at any other stage of their
relationship Roland, considering the bother that the affair involved, might
have been glad enough to accept it as an excuse for his dismissal. But he
had determined to bring this thing off. He thought of Betty, large, black-
haired, bright-eyed, highly colored, her full lips moistened by the red
tongue that slipped continually between them, and Brewster, fair-haired and
slim and shy. It would be amusing to see what they would make of one
another. He would carry the business through, and as a reward for this
determination luck, two days later, came his way. He drew Brewster in the
second round of the Open Fives.
On the first wet day they played it off, and as Roland was a poor
performer and Brewster a tolerably efficient one the game ended in under
half an hour. They had, therefore, the whole afternoon before them, and
Roland suggested that as soon as they had changed they should have tea
together in his study.
For Roland it was an exciting afternoon; he was playing, for the first
time in his life, the part of a diplomat. He had read a good many novels in
which the motive was introduced, but there it had been a very different
matter. The stage had been set skillfully; each knew the other’s thoughts
without being sure of his intention; there was a rapier duel of thrust and
parry. But here the stage was set for nothing in particular. Brewster was
unaware of dramatic tension; his main idea was to eat as much as possible.
 With infinite care Roland led the conversation to a discussion of the
mentality of women. He enlarged on a favorite theme of his—the fact that
girls often fell in love with really ugly men. “I can’t understand it,” he said.
“Girls are such delicate, refined creatures. They want the right colored
curtains in their bedrooms and the right colored cushion for their sofas; they
spend hours discussing the right shade of ribbon for their hair, and then they
go and fall in love with a ridiculous-looking man. Look at Morgan, now.
He’s plain and he’s bald and he’s got an absurd, stubby mustache, and yet
his wife is frightfully pretty, and she seems really keen on him. I don’t
understand it.”
Brewster agreed that it was curious, and helped himself to another cake.
“I suppose,” said Roland, “that a fellow like you knows a good deal
about girls?”
Brewster shook his head. The subject presented few attractions to him.
“No,” he said, “I don’t really know anything at all about them. I haven’t
got a sister.”
“But you don’t learn about girls from your sister.”
“Perhaps not. But if you haven’t got a sister you don’t run much chance
of seeing anyone else’s. We don’t know any decent ones. A few of my
friends have sisters, but they seem pretty fair asses. I keep out of their way.”
“That’s rather funny, you know, because you’re the sort of fellow that
girls run after.”
As Roland had been discussing for some time the ugliness of the type of
man that appealed most to girls, this was hardly a compliment. Brewster did
not notice it, however. Indeed, he evinced no great interest in the
conversation. He was enjoying his tea.
“Oh, I don’t think I am,” he said. “At any rate none of them have run
after me, so far.”
“That’s all you know,” said Roland, and his voice assumed a tone that
made Brewster look up quickly.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, I know someone who is doing their best to.”
Brewster flushed; the hand that was carrying a cream cake to his mouth
paused in mid air.
“A girl! Who?”
 “That’s asking.”
Roland had at last succeeded in arousing Brewster’s curiosity, and he
was wise enough to refrain from satisfying it at once. If he were to tell him
that a girl down town had wanted to go for a walk with him, Brewster
would have laughed and probably thought no more about it. He would have
to fan his interest till Brewster’s imagination had had time to play upon the
idea.
“She’s very pretty,” Roland said, “and she asked me who you were. She
was awfully keen to meet you, but I told her that it was no good and that
you wouldn’t care for that sort of thing. She was very disappointed.”
“Yes, but who is she?”
“I’m not going to tell you that. Why should I give her away?”
“Oh, but do tell me.”
Roland was firm.
“No; I’m jolly well not going to. It’s her secret. You don’t want to meet
her, do you?”
“No,” Brewster grudgingly admitted; “but I’d like to know.”
“I daresay you would, but I’m not going to give away a confidence.
Suppose you told me that you were keen on a girl and that you’d heard she
wouldn’t have anything to do with anyone, you wouldn’t like me to go and
tell her who you were, would you?” “No.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. That’s the sort of thing one keeps to oneself.”
“Yes; but as I shall never see her——”
Roland adopted in reply the stern tone of admonition, “Of course not;
but if I told you, you’d take jolly good care that you did see her, and then
you’d tell someone else. You’d point her out and say, ‘That girl wanted me
to come out for a walk with her.’ You know you would, and of course the
other fellow would promise not to tell anyone and of course he would. It
would be round the whole place in a week, and think how the poor girl
would feel being laughed at by everyone because a fellow that was four
years younger than herself wouldn’t have anything to do with her.”
“What! Four years older than me?”
“About that.”
“And she’s pretty, you say?”
 “Jolly.”
There was a pause.
“You know, Whately,” he began, “I’d rather ...” then broke off. “Oh, look
here, do tell me.”
Roland shook his head.
“I don’t give away secrets.”
“But why did you tell me anything about it at all?”
“I don’t know; it just cropped up, didn’t it? I thought it might amuse
you.”
“Well, I think it’s rotten of you. I shan’t be able to think of anything else
until I know.”
Which was, of course, exactly what Roland wanted. He knew how
Brewster’s imagination would play with the idea. Betty would become for
him strange, wistful, passionate. Four years older than himself he would
picture her as the Lilith of old, the eternal temptress. In herself she was
nothing. If he had met her in the streets two days earlier he would have
hardly noticed her. “A pleasant, country girl,” he would have said, and let
her pass out of his thoughts. But now the imagination that colors all things
would make her irresistible, and when he met her she would be identified
with his dream.
Next morning Brewster ran across to him during break.
“I say, Whately, do tell me who she is.”
“No; I told you I wasn’t going to.”
“Well, then. Oh, look here! Is it Dorothy Jones?” Dorothy Jones was the
daughter of the owner of a cycle shop and was much admired in the school.
“Would you like it to be?” Roland asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. But is it, though?”
“Perhaps.”
“It is Dorothy Jones, isn’t it? It is her?”
“If you know, why do you ask me?”
“Oh, don’t be a fool! Is it Dorothy Jones?”
“Perhaps.”
“Well, if it isn’t her, is it Mary Gardiner?”
 “It is Mary Gardiner,” Roland mocked. “It is she, isn’t it?”
“Oh, you’re awful,” said Brewster, and walked away.
But that evening he came over to the School house studies and, just
before Hall, a small boy ran across to the reading-room to tell Roland that
Brewster was waiting in the cloisters and would like to speak to him.
“Well,” said Roland, “and what is it?”
“It’s about the girl.”
Roland affected a weary impatience.
“Oh, Lord, but I thought we’d finished with all that. I told you that I
wasn’t going to give her away.”
“Yes, I know; but ... ah, well, look here, I must know who the girl is. No,
don’t interrupt. Will you tell me if I promise to come out with her once?”
Roland thought for a moment. He had his man now, but it would not do to
hurry things. He must play for safety a little longer.
“Oh, yes, I know that game,” he said. “I shall tell you her name and then
you’ll wish you hadn’t promised and you’ll get frightened, and when the
time comes you will have sprained an ankle in a house match and won’t be
able to come for a walk. That won’t do at all.”
“But I swear I wouldn’t do that,” Brewster protested. “Really, I
wouldn’t.”
“Yes, and I promised that I wasn’t going to tell.”
“But that’s so silly. Suppose now that I was really keen on her. For all
you know, or I, for that matter, I may have seen her walking about the town
and thought her jolly pretty without knowing who she was.”
“And I’m damned certain you haven’t. You told me that you didn’t take
any interest in girls.”
“No, but really, honest, man, I may have seen her. Only this morning as I
was going down to Fort’s after breakfast I saw an absolutely ripping girl,
and I believe it was me she smiled at. It’s very likely her.”
“Yes, yes, I daresay, but——”
“Oh, come on, do tell me, and I promise you I’ll come and see her;
honest, I will.”
But at that moment the roll-bell issued its cracked summons.
 “If you don’t run like sin you’ll be late for roll-call, and that’ll finish
everything,” Roland said, and Brewster turned and sprinted across the
courts.
Roland walked back to his study in a mood of deep self-satisfaction. He
was carrying an extremely difficult job to a triumphant close. It did not
occur to him that the role he filled was not a particularly noble one and that
an unpleasantly worded label could be discovered for it. He was living in
the days of unreflecting action. He did, or refrained from doing, the things
he wanted to do, without a minute analysis of motive, but in accordance
with a definite code of rules. He lived his life as he played cricket. There
were rewards and there were penalties. If you hit across a straight long hop
you ran a chance of being leg before, and if the ball hit your pad you went
straight back to the pavilion. You played to win, but you played the game,
provided that you played it according to the rules. It did not matter to
Roland what the game was. And the affair of Betty and Brewster was a
game that he was winning fairly and squarely.
Next morning he achieved victory. He met Brewster during break and
presented his ultimatum.
“I won’t tell you her name,” he said. “I promised not to. It wouldn’t be
the game. But I tell you what I will do, though. If you’ll promise to come
out for a walk with me on Sunday I’ll arrange for her to meet us
somewhere, and then you can see what you think of each other. Now, what
do you say to that?”
Brewster’s curiosity was so roused that he accepted eagerly, and next
Sunday they set out together towards Cold Harbour.
About a mile and a half from the school a sunken lane ran down the side
of a steep hill towards the railway. The lane could be approached from two
sides, and from the shelter of a thick hedge it was possible to observe the
whole country-side without being seen. It was here that they had arranged
their meeting.
They found the two girls waiting when they arrived. Betty looked very
smart in a dark blue coat and skirt and a small hat that fitted tightly over her
head. She smiled at Roland, and the sight, after months, of her fresh-colored
face, with its bright eyes and wide, moist mouth, sent a sudden thrill
through him—half fear, half excitement.
“So you’ve managed to arrange it,” said Dolly. “How clever of you.”
 “Very nice of him to come,” said Betty, her eyes fixed on Brewster, who
stood awkwardly, his hands in his pockets, kicking one heel against the
other.
For a few minutes they talked together, stupid, inconsequent badinage,
punctuated by giggles, till Betty, as usual, reminded them that they would
only have an hour together.
“About time we paired off, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” said Roland. “Come along, Dolly,” and they began to
walk down the lane. At the corner they turned and saw the other two
standing together—Betty, taller, confident and all-powerful; Brewster,
looking up at her, scared and timid, his hands clasped behind him.
“He looks a bit shy, doesn’t he?” said Dolly.
Roland laughed.
“He won’t be for long, I expect.”
“Rather not. He’ll soon get used to her. Betty doesn’t let her boys stop
shy with her for long. She makes them do as she wants them.”
And when they returned an hour later they saw the two sitting side by
side chatting happily. But as soon as they reached them Brewster became
silent and shy, and looked neither of them in the face.
“Had a good time?” asked Dolly.
“Ask him,” she answered.
And they laughed, all except Brewster, and made arrangements to meet
again, only a little earlier the next week.
“Well,” said Roland, as soon as they were out of earshot, “and how did
you enjoy yourself?”
Brewster admitted that it had been pretty good.
“Only pretty good?”
“Well, I don’t know,” he said, “it was all right. Yes, it was ripping, really;
but it was so different from what I had expected.”
“How do you mean?”
“Oh, well, you know. I felt so awkward; she started everything. I didn’t
have any say in it at all. I had thought it was up to me to do all that.”
“Betty’s not that sort.”
“No, but it’s a funny business.”
 “You are coming out next week, though?”
“Rather!”
And next week Dolly, as soon as she was alone with Roland, began to
ask him questions about Brewster: “What did he say to you? What did he
think of her? Was she nice to him? You must tell me all about it.”
“Oh, I think he enjoyed himself all right. She startled him a bit.”
“Did she? What did he say? Do tell me.”
She asked him question after question, and he had to repeat to her every
word he could remember of Brewster’s conversation. Did he still feel shy?
Did he think Betty beautiful? Was he at all in love with her? And then
Roland began to ask what Betty had thought of Brewster. Had she preferred
him to Howard? She wasn’t disappointed in him? Did she like him better
than the other boys? They talked eagerly.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to go back and have a look at them?” said Dolly. “I’d
give anything to see them together.”
Their eyes met, and suddenly, with a fervor they had never reached
before, they kissed.

CHAPTER VI

APRIL’S LOOKING-GLASS

F OR April the term which brought Roland so much excitement was slow
in passing. In spite of the disastrous evening at the ball, Roland’s return
to school left a void in her life. When she awoke in the morning and
stretched herself in bed before getting up she would ask herself what good
thing she could expect that day to bring her. When she felt happy she would
demand the reason of herself. “Over what are you happy?” she would ask
herself. “In five minutes’ time you will get up. You will put on your
dressing-gown and hurry down the corridor to the bathroom. You will dress
hurriedly, but come down all the same a little late for breakfast. You will
find that your father has eaten, as is his wont, more than his share of toast,
which will mean that you, being the last down, will have to go without it.
You will rush down to school saying over to yourself the dates of your
history lesson. You will hang your hat and coat on the fourth row of pegs
and on the seventh peg from the right. From nine o’clock to ten you will be
heard your history lesson. From ten o’clock till eleven you will take down
notes on chemistry. From eleven to a quarter past there will be an interval
during which you will try to find a friend to help you with the Latin
translation, of which you prepared only the first thirty lines last night. From
a quarter-past eleven till a quarter-past twelve you will be heard that lesson.
At a quarter-past twelve you will attend a lecture on English literature,
which will last till one o’clock. You will then have lunch, and as to-day is
Tuesday you know that your lunch will consist of boiled mutton and caper
sauce, followed by apple dumpling. In the afternoon you will have
gymnastics and a music lesson, after which there will be an hour of
Mademoiselle’s French conversation class. You will then come home. You
will hurry your tea in the hope of being able to finish your preparation
before your father comes back from the office at twenty minutes to seven,
because when once he is back your mother will begin to talk, and when she
begins to talk work becomes impossible. You will then dine with your
parents at half-past seven. You will sit perfectly quiet at the table and not
say a word, while your mother talks and talks and father listens and
occasionally says, ‘Yes, mother,’ or ‘No, mother.’ After dinner you will read
a book in the drawing-room till your mother reminds you that it is nine
o’clock and time that you were in bed. You have, in fact, before you a day
similar in every detail to yesterday, and similar in every detail to to-morrow.
If you think anything different is going to happen to you, then you are a
little fool.” And April would have to confess that this self-catechism was
true. “Nothing happens,” she would say. “One day is like another, and I am
a little fool to wake up in the morning excited about nothing at all.”
But all the same she was excited and she did feel, in spite of reason, that
something was bound to happen soon. “Things cannot go on like this for
ever,” she told herself. And, looking into the future, she came gradually to
look upon the day of Roland’s return from school as the event which would
alter, in a way she could not discern, the whole tenor of her life. It was not
in these words that the idea was presented to her. “It may be different
during the holidays when Roland is here.” That was her first thought, from
which the words “when Roland is here” detached themselves, starting
another train of thought, that “Life when Roland is here is always
different”; and she began to look forward to the holidays, counting the days
till his return. “Things will be different then.”
 It was not love, it was not friendship; it was simply the belief that
Roland’s presence would be a key to that world other than this, of which
shadowy intimations haunted her continually. Roland became the focus for
her disquiet, her longing, her vague appreciation of the eternal essence
made manifest for her in the passing phenomena of life.
“When Roland comes back....” And though she marked on the calendar
that hung in her bedroom April 2, the last day of her own term, with a big
red cross, it was April 5 that she regarded as the real beginning of her
holidays. And when she came down to breakfast and her father said to her,
“Only seven more days now, April,” she would answer gayly, “Yes, only a
week. Isn’t it lovely?” But to herself she would add, “Ten days, only ten
days more!”
And so she missed altogether the usual last day excitement. She did not
wake on that first morning happy with the delicious thought that she could
lie in bed for an extra ten minutes if she liked. She had not yet begun her
holidays.
But two days later she was in a fever of expectation. In twenty-four
hours’ time Roland would be home. How slowly the day passed. In the
evening she said she was tired and went to bed before dinner, so that the
next day might come quickly for her. But when she got to bed she found
that she could not sleep, and though she repeated the word “abracadabra”
many hundred times and counted innumerable sheep passing through
innumerable gates, she lay awake till after midnight, hearing hour after hour
strike. And when at last sleep came to her it was light and fitful and she
awoke often.
Next day she did not know what to do with herself. She tried to read and
could not. She tried to sew and could not. She ran up and down stairs on
trifling errands in order to pass the time. In vain she tried to calm herself.
“What are you getting so excited about? What do you think is going to
happen? What can happen? The most that can happen is that he will come
round with his father in the evening, and you know well enough by now
what that will mean. Your mother will talk and his father will say, ‘Yes,
Mrs. Curtis,’ and ‘Really, Mrs. Curtis,’ and you and Roland will hardly
exchange a word with one another. You are absurdly excited over nothing.”
But logic was of no avail, and all the afternoon she fidgeted with
impatience. By tea-time she was in a state of repressed hysteria. She sat in
the window-seat looking down the road in the direction from which he
would have to come. “I wonder if he will come without his father. It would
be so dear of him if he would, but I don’t suppose he will. No, of course he
won’t. It’s silly of me to think of it. He’ll have to wait for his father; he
always does. That means he won’t be here at the earliest till after six. And
it’s only ten minutes to five now.”
And to make things worse, seldom had she found her mother more
annoying.
“Now, why don’t you go for a walk, April, dear?” she said. “It’s such a
lovely evening and you’ve been indoors nearly all day. It isn’t good, and I
was saying to your father only the other day, ‘Father, dear, I’m sure April
isn’t up to the mark. She looks so pale nowadays.’ ”
“I’m all right, mother.”
“No, but are you, dear? You’re looking really pale. I’m sure I ought to
ask Dr. Dunkin to come and see you.”
“But I’m all right—really, I’m all right, mother. I know when anything is
wrong with me.”
“But you don’t, April, dear. That’s just the point. Don’t you remember
that time when you insisted on going to the tennis party and assured us that
you were quite well, and when you came back we found you had a
temperature of 101° and that you were sickening for measles? I was saying
to Dr. Dunkin only this morning: ‘Dr. Dunkin, I’m really not satisfied about
our little April. I think I shall have to ask you to give her a tonic’; and he
said to me: ‘Yes, that’s right, Mrs. Curtis; you bring me along to her and I’ll
set her straight.’ ”
April put her hands up to her head and tried not to listen, but her
mother’s voice flowed on:
“And now, dear, do go out for a walk—just a little one.”
“But, mother, dear, I don’t want to, really, and I’m feeling so tired.”
“There, what did I say? You’re feeling tired and you’ve done nothing all
day. There must be something wrong with you. I shall certainly ask Dr.
Dunkin to come and see you to-morrow.”
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, mother. I’ll do anything you like to-morrow. If you’ll
only leave me alone to-night.”
 But Mrs. Curtis went on talking, and April grew more and more
exasperated, and the minutes went past and Roland did not come. Six struck
and half-past six, and a few minutes later she heard her father’s latch-key in
the door. And then the whole question of her health was dragged out again.
“I was saying to you only yesterday, father, that our little April wasn’t as
well as she ought to be. She has overworked, I think. Last night she went to
bed early and to-day she looks quite pale, and she says that she feels tired
although she hasn’t really done anything. I must send for Dr. Dunkin to-
morrow.”
It seemed to April that the voice would never stop. It beat and beat upon
her brain, like the ticking of the watch that reminded her of the flying
moments. “He won’t come now,” she said; “he won’t come now.” Seven
o’clock had struck, the lamps were lit, evening had descended upon the
street. He had never come as late as this before. But she still sat at the
window, gazing down the street towards the figures that became distinct for
a moment in the lamplight. “He will not come now,” she said, and suddenly
she felt limp, tired, incapable of resistance. She put her head upon her knees
and began to sob.
In a moment her mother’s arms were round her. “But, darling, what is it,
April, dear?”
She could not speak. She shook her head, tried desperately to make a
sign that she was all right, that she would rather be left alone; but it was no
use. She felt too bitterly the need for human sympathy. She turned, flung
her arms about her mother’s neck, and began to sob and sob.
“Oh, mother, mother,” she cried. “I’m so miserable. I don’t know what to
do. I don’t know what to do.”
Next morning Dr. Dunkin felt her pulse, prescribed a tonic and told her
not to stay too much indoors.
“Now, you’ll be all right, dear,” her mother said. “Dr. Dunkin’s
medicines are splendid.”
April smiled quietly. “Yes, I expect that was what was wanted. I think I
worked a little too hard last term.”
“I’m sure you did, my dear. I shall write to Mrs. Clarke about it. I can’t
have my little girl getting run down.”
 And that afternoon April met Roland in the High Street. It was the first
time that she had seen him alone since the evening of the dance, and she
found him awkward and embarrassed. They said a few things of no
importance—about the holidays, the weather and their acquaintances. Then
April said that she must be going home, and Roland made no effort to
detain her—did not even make any suggestion about coming round to see
her.
“So that is what you have been looking forward to for over a month,”
she said to herself, as he passed out of sight behind an angle of the road.
“This is the date you wanted to mark upon your calendar with a red cross.
Little fool. What did you think you were doing? And what has it turned out
to be in the end? Five minutes’ discussion of indifferent things. A fine event
to make such a fuss about; and what else did you expect?”
She was not bitter. It was one of those mild days that in early spring
surprise us with a promise of summer, on which the heart is stirred with the
crowded glory of life and the sense of widening horizons. The long stretch
of roofs and chimney stacks became beautiful in the subdued sunlight. It
was an hour that in the strong might have quickened the hunger for
adventure, but that to April brought a mood of chastened, quiet resignation.
She appreciated, as she had not done before, the tether by which her scope
was measured. For the last month she had made Roland’s return a focus for
the ambitions and desires and yearnings towards an intenser way of living,
for which of herself she had been unable to find expression. This, in a
confused manner, she understood. “I can do nothing by myself. I have to
live in other people. And what I am now I shall be always. All my life I
shall be dependent on someone else, or on some interest that is outside
myself. And whether I am happy or unhappy depends upon some other
person. That is my nature, and I cannot go beyond my nature.” When she
reached home she sat for a long time in the window-seat, her hands folded
in her lap. “This will be my whole life,” she said. “I am not of those who
may go out in search of happiness.” And she thought that if romance did not
come to her, she would remain all her life sitting at a window. “Of myself I
can do nothing.”

CHAPTER VII
 A SORRY BUSINESS

A PRIL did not see very much of Roland during the holidays, and was
not, on the whole, sorry. Now that the hysterical excitement over his
return had passed, she judged it better to let their friendship lapse. She
did not want any repetition of that disastrous evening, and thought that it
would be easier to resume their friendship on its old basis after the long
interval of the summer term. Roland was still a little piqued by what he
considered her absurd behavior, and had resolved to let the first step come
from her.
This estrangement was a disappointment to his people.
“Have you noticed, my dear, that Roland’s hardly been round to the
Curtises’ at all these holidays?” Mr. Whately said to his wife one evening.
“I hope there has not been a row or anything. I rather wish you’d try and
find out.”
And so next day Mrs. Whately made a guarded remark to her son about
April’s appearance: “What a big girl she’s getting. And she’s prettier every
day. If you’re not careful you’ll have all the boys in the place running after
her and cutting you out.”
Roland answered in an off-hand manner, “They can for all I care,
mother.”
“Oh, but, Roland, you shouldn’t say that; I thought you were getting on
so well together last holidays. We were even saying——”
But Roland never allowed himself to be forced into a confidence.
“Oh, please, mother, don’t. There was nothing in it; really, there wasn’t.”
“You haven’t had a row, have you, Roland?”
“Of course not, mother. What should we have a row about?”
“I don’t know, dear. I only thought——”
“Well, you needn’t worry about us, mother; we’re all right.”
Roland was by no means pleased at what seemed to him a distinct case
of interference. It arrived, too, at a most inopportune moment, for he had
been just then wondering whether he ought not to forget about his high-
minded resolves and try to make it up with April. His mother’s inquiries,
however, decided him. He was not going to have others arranging that sort
of thing for him. “And for all I know,” he said to himself, “Mrs. Curtis may
be at the back of this. I shan’t go round there again these holidays.” And
this was the more unfortunate, because if the intimacy between Roland and
April had been resumed, it is more than likely that Roland, at the beginning
of the summer term, would have decided to give up Dolly altogether. Both
he and Brewster were a little tired of it; the first interest had passed, and
they had actually discussed the wisdom of dropping the whole business.
“After all,” said Brewster, “it can’t go on forever. It’ll have to stop some
time, and next term we shall both be fairly high in the school, house
prefects and all that, and we shall have to be pretty careful what we do.”
Roland was inclined to agree with him, but his curiosity was still awake.
“It’s not so easy to break a thing like this. Let’s wait till the end of the
term. The summer holidays are a long time, and by the time we come back
they’ll very likely have picked up someone else.”
“All right,” said Brewster, “I don’t mind. And it does add an interest to
things.”
And so the affair went on smoothly and comfortably, a pleasant interlude
among the many good gifts of a summer term—cricket and swimming and
the long, lazy evenings. Nothing, indeed, occurred to ruffle the complete
happiness of Roland’s life, till one Monday morning during break Brewster
came running across to the School house studies with the disastrous news
that his house master had found out all about it. It had happened thus:
On the previous Saturday Roland had sent up a note in break altering the
time of an appointment. It was the morning of a school match and Brewster
received the note on his way down to the field. He was a little late, and as
soon as he had read the note he shoved it into his pocket and thought no
more about it. During the afternoon he slipped, trying to bring off a one-
handed catch in the slips, and tore the knee of his trousers. The game ended
late and he had only just time to change and take his trousers round to the
matron to be mended before lock-up. In the right-hand pocket the matron
discovered Roland’s note, and, judging its contents singular, placed it
before Mr. Carus Evans.
As Roland walked back with Brewster from the tuckshop a small boy
ran up to tell him that Mr. Carus Evans would like to see him directly after
lunch.
Roland was quite calm as he walked up the hill three hours later. One is
only frightened when one is uncertain of one’s fate. When a big row is on,
in which one may possibly be implicated, one endures agonies, wondering
whether or not one will be found out. But when it is settled, when one is
found out, what is there to do? One must let things take their course;
nothing can alter it. There is no need for fret or fever. Roland was able to
consider his position with detached interest.
He had been a fool to send that note. Notes always got lost or dropped
and the wrong people picked them up. How many fellows had not got
themselves bunked that way, notes and confirmation? They were the two
great menaces, the two hidden rocks. Probably confirmation was the more
dangerous. On the whole, more fellows had got the sack through
confirmation, but notes were not much better. What an ass he had been. He
would never send a note again, never; he swore it to himself, and then
reflected a little dismally that he might very likely never have the
opportunity.
Still, that was rather a gloomy view to take. And he stood more chance
with Carus Evans than he would have done with any other master. Carus
Evans had always hated him, and because he hated him would be
desperately anxious to treat him fairly. As a result he would be sure to
underpunish him. It is always safer to have a big row with a master who
dislikes you than with one who is your friend. And from this reflection
Roland drew what comfort he might.
Mr. Carus Evans sat writing at his desk when Roland came in. He looked
up and then went on with his letter. It was an attempt to make Roland feel
uncomfortable and to place him at the start at a disadvantage. It was a
characteristic action, for Carus Evans was a weak man. His house was
probably the slackest in the school. It had no one in the XV., Brewster was
its sole representative in the XI. and it did not possess one school prefect.
This should not have been, for Carus Evans was a bachelor and all his
energies were available. He had no second interest to attract him, but he
was weak when he should have been strong; he chose the wrong prefects
and placed too much confidence in them. He was not a natural leader.
For a good two minutes he went on writing, then put down his pen.
“Ah, yes, yes, Whately. Sit down, will you? Now then, I’ve been talking
to one of the boys in my house and it seems that you and he have been
going out together and meeting some girls in the town. Is that so?”
“Yes, sir.”
 “And the suggestion came from you, I gather?”
“Yes, sir.”
“This is a very serious thing, Whately. I suppose you realize that?”
“I suppose so, sir.”
“Of course it is, and especially so for a boy in your position. Now, I
don’t know what attitude the headmaster will adopt, but of this I am quite
certain. A great deal will depend on whether you tell me the truth. I shall
know if you tell me a lie. You’ve got to tell me the whole story. Now, how
did this thing start?”
“On the first night of the Christmas term, sir.”
“How?”
“I met them at a dance in the pageant grounds.”
“The pageant grounds are out of bounds. You ought to know that.”
“It was the first night, sir.”
“Don’t quibble with me. They’re out of bounds. Well, what happened
next?”
“I danced with her, sir.”
“Were you alone?”
“No, sir.”
“Who was with you?”
“I can’t tell you, sir.”
“If you don’t tell me——”
“He’s left now, sir. It wouldn’t be fair.”
They looked each other in the face and in that moment Carus Evans
realized that, in spite of their positions, Roland was the stronger.
“Oh, well, never mind that; we can leave it till later on. And I suppose
you made an appointment?”
“No, sir.”
“What?”
“You asked me if I made an appointment, sir. I answered I didn’t.”
Roland was not going to give him the least assistance. Indeed, in the joy
of being able to play once again the old game of baiting masters, that had
delighted him so much when he had been in the middle school and that he
had to abandon so reluctantly when he attained the dignity of the Fifths and
Sixths, he had almost forgotten that he was in a singularly difficult
situation. He would make “old Carus” ask him a question for every answer
that he gave. And he saw that for the moment Carus had lost his length.
“Well, then, let me see. Yes, well—er—well, where did you meet her
next?”
“In a lane beyond Cold Harbour, sir.”
“Did you go there alone?”
“No, sir.”
“You were with this other fellow?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what did you do?”
“Do, sir?”
“Yes, do. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yes, sir, but, Do? I don’t quite understand you. What exactly do you
mean by the word ‘do’?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean, Whately. You flirted, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir. I suppose that’s what I did do. I flirted.”
“I mean you held her hand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you kissed her?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Disgusting! Simply disgusting! Is this place a heathen brothel or a
Christian school?” Carus’ face was red, and he drove his fingers through the
hair at the back of his neck. “You go out on a Sunday afternoon and kiss a
shop-girl. What a hobby for a boy in the XV. and Sixth!” And he began to
stamp backwards and forwards up and down the room.
This fine indignation did not, however, impress Roland in the least.
Carus appeared to him to be less disgusted than interested—pruriently
interested—and that he was angry with himself rather than with Roland,
because he knew instinctively that he was not feeling as a master should
feel when confronted with such a scandal. It was a forced emotion that was
inspiring the fierce flow of words.
 “Do you know what this sort of thing leads to?” he was saying. “But, of
course, you do. I could trust you to know anything like that. Your whole life
may be ruined by it.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Perhaps you didn’t, not this time, though I’ve only your word for it; but
you would have, sooner or later, under different conditions. There’s only
one end to that sort of thing. And even if you were all right yourself, how
did you know that Brewster was going to be? That’s the beastly part of it.
That’s what sickens me with you. Your own life is your own to do what you
like with, but you’ve no right to contaminate others. You encourage this
young fellow to go about with a girl four years older than himself, about
whom you know nothing. How could you tell what might be happening to
him? He may not have your self-control. He’d never have started this game
but for you, and now that he’s once begun he may be unable to break
himself of it. You may have ruined his whole life, mayn’t you?”
Roland considered the question.
“I suppose so, but I didn’t look at it that way.”
“Of course, you didn’t. But it’s the results that count. That’s what you’ve
got to keep in mind; actions are judged by their results. And now, what do
you imagine is going to happen to you? I suppose you know that if I go
across and report you to the headmaster that it’ll mean the next train back to
London?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if I did, you’d have no cause for complaint. It would be what
you’d deserved, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a pause. They looked at each other. Carus Evans hoped that
he had frightened Roland, but he had not. Roland knew that Carus did not
intend to get him expelled. He would not have talked like that if he had. He
was trying to make Roland feel that he was conferring a favor on him in
allowing him to stop on.
“There’s no reason why I should feel kindly disposed towards you,”
Carus said. “We’ve never got on well together. You’ve worked badly in my
form. I’ve never regarded you as a credit to the school. When you were a
small boy you were rowdy and bumptious, and now that you have reached a
position of authority you have become superior and conceited. There’s no
reason why I, personally, should wish to see you remain a member of the
school. As regards my own house, I cannot yet judge what harm you may
have done me. You’ve started the poison here. Brewster will have told his
friends. One bad apple will corrupt a cask. I don’t know what trouble you
may have laid up for me.”
“No, sir.”
“But all the same, I know what it means to expel a boy. He’s a marked
man for life. I’m going to give you another chance.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“But you’ve got to make this thing good first. You’ve got to go to the
headmaster yourself and tell him all about it—now, at once. Do you see?”
“Yes, sir.”
It was going to be an awkward business, and Roland made no attempt to
conceal it from himself. It was just on the half-hour as he walked across the
courts. Afternoon school was beginning. Groups had collected round the
classrooms, waiting for the master to let them in. Johnson waved to him
from a study window and told him to hurry up and help them with the con.
“Don’t wait for me,” Roland called back. “I’ve got one or two things to
do. I shall be a little late.”
“Slacker,” Johnson laughed.
It was funny to see the machine revolving so smoothly, with himself, to
all outward appearance, a complacently efficient cog in it. He supposed that
a criminal must feel like this when he watched people hurry past him in the
streets; all of them so intent upon their own affairs and himself seemingly
one with them, but actually so much apart.
He knocked at the headmaster’s door.
“Come in.”
The headmaster was surprised to see Roland at such an hour.
“Yes, Whately?” he said, and then appeared to remember something, and
began to fumble among some papers on his desk. “One moment, Whately; I
knew there was something I wanted to speak to you about. Ah, yes, here it
is. Your essay on Milton. Will you just come over here a minute? I wanted
to have a few words with you about it. Sit down, won’t you? Now, let me
see, where is it? Ah, yes, here it is: now you say, ‘Milton was a Puritan in
spite of himself. Satan is the hero of the poem.’ Now I want to be quite
certain what you mean by that. I’m not going to say that you are wrong. But
I want you to be quite certain in your own mind as to what you mean
yourself.”
And Roland began to explain how Milton had let himself be carried
away by his theme, that his nature was so impregnated by the sense of
defeat that defeat seemed to him a nobler thing than victory. Satan had
become the focus for his emotions on the overthrow of the Commonwealth.
“Yes, yes, I see that, but surely, Whately, the Commonwealth was the
Puritan party. If Milton was so distressed by the return of the Royalists, how
do you square this view with your statement, ‘Milton was a Puritan in spite
of himself’? Surely if his Puritanism was only imposed, he would have
welcomed the return of the drama and a more highly colored life.”
Roland made a gallant effort to explain, but all the time he kept saying to
himself, “I came here for a confessional, and yet here I am sitting down in
the Chief’s best arm-chair, enjoying a friendly chat. I must stop it
somehow.” But it was excessively difficult. He began to lose the thread of
his argument and contradicted himself; and the Chief was so patient,
listening to him so attentively, waiting till he had finished.
“But, my dear Whately,” the Chief said, “you’ve just said that Comus is
a proof of his love of color and display, and yet you say in the same
breath....”
Would it never cease? And how on earth was he at the end going to
introduce the subject of his miserable amours? He had never anticipated
anything like this. But at last it was finished.
“You see what you’ve done, Whately? You’ve picked up a phrase
somewhere or other about the paganism of Milton and the nobility of Satan
and you have not taken the trouble to think it out. You’ve just accepted it. I
don’t say that your statement could not be justified. But it’s you who should
be able to justify it, not I. You should never make any statement in an essay
that you can’t substantiate with facts. It’s a good essay, though, quite good.”
And he returned to his papers. He had forgotten altogether the fact that
Roland had come unasked to see him.
It was one of the worst moments of Roland’s life. He stood silent in the
middle of the room while the Chief continued his letter, thinking the
interview was at an end.
 “Sir,” he said at last.
The headmaster looked up quickly and said a little impatiently, for he
was a busy man and resented interruption, “Well, Whately? Yes; what is it?”
“I came to see you, sir.”
“Oh, yes, of course you did. I forgot. Well, what is it?”
“Sir, I’ve come to tell you that Mr. Carus Evans told me to come and
report myself to you and say that—well, sir—that I’ve been going out for
walks with a girl in the town.”
“What!”
“Yes, sir, a girl in the town, and that I’d asked a boy in his house to come
with me, sir.”
The Chief rose from his chair and walked across to the mantelpiece.
There was a long pause.
“But I don’t quite understand, Whately. You’ve been going out with
some girl in the town?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’ve encouraged some boy in Mr. Carus Evans’ house to
accompany you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And he, I suppose, has been going for walks with a girl as well?”
“Yes, sir.”
There was another long pause, during which Roland realized that he had
chosen the worst possible moment for his confession. Whatever decision
the Chief might arrive at would be influenced, not only by his inevitable
disappointment at the failure of a boy in whom he had trusted, but by its
violent contrast with the friendly discussion over the essay and the natural
annoyance of a busy man who has been interrupted in an important piece of
work to discuss an unpleasant situation that has arisen unexpectedly. When
the Chief at last began to speak there was an impatience in his voice that
would have been absent if Roland had tackled him after dinner.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I am tempted sometimes to give up faith in you
fellows altogether. I never know where I am with any of you. I feel as
though I were sitting upon a volcano. Everything seems quiet and
satisfactory and then suddenly the volcano breaks out and I find that the
boys in whom I have placed, or am thinking of placing, responsibility have
deceived me. Do you realize the hypocrisy of your behavior during the last
year? You have been meeting Mr. Carus Evans and myself on friendly,
straightforward terms, with an open look on your face, and all the time,
behind our backs, you’ve been philandering with girls in the town. I haven’t
asked you for any details and I am not going to; that doesn’t enter into the
question at all. You’ve been false and doublefaced. You’ve been acting a lie
for a year. It’s the sort of thing that makes me sick of the whole lot of you.
You can go.”
Roland walked back to the studies, perplexed and miserable. The word
“deceit” had cut hard into him. He loathed crookedness and he had always
considered himself dead straight. It was a boast of his that he had never told
a lie, at least not to a boy; masters were different. Of course they were, and
it was absurd to pretend they weren’t. Everyone did things that they
wouldn’t care to tell the Chief. There was a barrier between. The
relationship was not open like friendship. He saw the Chief’s point of view,
but he did not consider it a sound one. He disliked these fine gradations of
conduct, this talk of acting a lie; things were either black or white. He
remembered how the Chief had once come round the upper dormitories and
had endeavored to persuade him that it was acting a lie to get into bed
without cleaning his teeth. He had never understood why. An unclean act,
perhaps, but acting a lie! oh, no, it wouldn’t do. It was an unfair method of
tackling the problem. It was hitting a man in the back, this appeal to a better
nature. Life should be played like cricket, according to rules. You could
either play for safety and score slowly, or you could run risks and hit across
straight half-volleys. If one missed it one was out and that was the end of it.
One didn’t talk about acting a lie to the bowler because one played at the
ball as though it were outside the leg stump. Why couldn’t the Chief play
the game like an umpire? Roland knew that he had done a thing which, in
the eyes of authority, was wrong. He admitted that. He had known it was
wrong all the time. He had been found out; he was prepared for punishment.
That was the process of life. One took risks and paid the penalty. The issue
was to Roland childishly simple, and he could not see why all these good
people should complicate it so unnecessarily with their talk of hypocrisy
and deceit.
That evening the headmaster wrote to Roland’s father:
 Dear Mr. Whately,—I write to inform you of a matter that will cause
you, I fear, a good deal of pain. I have discovered that for the last year
Roland has been in the habit of going out for walks on Sunday afternoons
with a young girl in the town, and that he has encouraged another and
younger boy to accompany him. These walks resulted, I am sure, in nothing
beyond a little harmless flirtation, and I do not regard the actual issue as
important. I do consider, however, and I think that in this you will agree
with me, that Roland’s conduct in the matter is most reprehensible. It has
involved a calculated and prolonged deception of you, his parent, and of us,
his schoolmasters, and he has proved himself, I fear, unworthy of the
responsibility of prefectship that I had hoped to place in him next term. If
he were a younger boy the obvious course would be a sound thrashing. But
Roland is too old for that. Perhaps he is too old to be at school at all. The
leaving age of nineteen is arbitrary. Boys develop at such different ages;
and though I should not myself have thought so before this affair arose, it
may very well be that Roland has already passed beyond the age at which it
is wise and, indeed, safe to keep him any longer at a school. For all we
know, this trouble may prove to have been a blessing in disguise, and will
have protected him from more serious difficulties. At any rate, I do not feel
that I should be doing my duty by you or by the other parents who place the
welfare of their boys in my hands if I were to keep Roland here after the
summer. There is, of course, in this not the least suggestion of expulsion.
Roland will leave at the end of the term with many of his contemporaries in
the ordinary course of events. And he will become, if he wishes, as I hope
he will wish, a member of the old Fernhurstian Society. Perhaps you may
yourself decide to come down and have a talk with Roland. If so, perhaps
we might discuss his future together. I do not myself see why this should
prejudice in any way his going up to the University in a year’s time. Of
course he could not go up now as he has not yet passed responsions.
I very much hope that you will come down and that we shall be able to
discuss the whole matter from every point of view. Sincerely yours,
J. F. Harrison.
This letter arrived at Hammerton by the evening post. Mr. Whately had
that morning received a letter from Roland, written before the row, with an
account of a house game in which he had made 59 runs and taken 3
wickets. Mr. Whately was most excited.
 “He’s really doing remarkably well,” he said, after dinner. “He says that
he’s pretty certain for his second XI. colors, and I can’t think why they
don’t give him a trial for the first. I know that Fernhurst have a pretty strong
side this year, but they ought to try all the men they’ve got.”
“He ought to get in next year at any rate,” said his wife.
“Next year! Of course there should be no doubt about that at all. But I
should like to see him get in this. It will make a big difference to his last
term if he knows he’s safe for his place. It’s always a little worrying having
to play for one’s colors, and I should like him to have a really good last
term. He’s deserved it; he’s worked hard; he’s been a real success at
Fernhurst.”
His soliloquy was at this point interrupted by the double knock of the
postman. Mr. Whately jumped up at once.
“The Fernhurst postmark, my dear,” he said. “I wonder what this can be
about. The headmaster’s writing!”
He tore open the envelope eagerly and began to read.
“Well, dear?” said his wife.
He said nothing, but handed the letter across to her. She read it through
and then sat forward in her chair, her hands lying on her knees.
“Poor darling,” she said. “So that’s why he saw so little of April last
holidays.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s the reason.”
“Do you think he was in love with her?”
“With April?”
“No, of course not, dear. With this girl at Fernhurst?”
“I don’t know. How could I tell?”
And again they sat in silence. It was such a long while since they had
been called upon to face a serious situation. For many years now they had
lived upon the agreeable surface of an ordered life. They were unprepared
for this disquieting intrusion.
“And what’s going to happen now?” she said at last. “I suppose you’ll
have to go down to school and see him.”
“Yes, I think so. Yes, certainly. I ought to go down to-morrow.”
“And what will you say to him?”
 “I don’t know. What is it the headmaster says?”
She handed him the letter and he fumbled with it. “Here it is. ‘I do not
see myself why this should prejudice in any way his going up to the
University.’ That’s what the headmaster says. But I don’t really see how we
could manage it. After all, what would happen? He would have to go to a
crammer’s and everyone would ask questions. We have always said how
good the Fernhurst education is, and now they’ll begin to wonder why
we’ve changed our minds. If we take Roland away and send him to a
crammer’s they would be sure to think something was up. You know what
people are. It would never do.”
“No, I suppose not. But it seems rather hard on Roland if he’s got to give
up Oxford.”
“Well, it will be his own fault, won’t it?”
“We haven’t heard the whole story yet.”
“I know; but what’s the good of discussing it? He knew he was doing
something he ought not to be doing. He can’t expect not to have to pay for
it.”
And there was another pause.
“He was doing so well, too,” she said.
“He would have been a prefect after the summer. He would have been
captain of his house. We should have been so proud of him.”
“And it’s all over now.”
They did not discuss the actual trouble. He knew that on the next day he
would have to go over the whole thing with Roland, and he wanted to be
able to think it out in quiet. They were practical people, who had spent the
last fifteen years discussing the practical affairs of ways and means. They
had come nearest to each other when they had sat before their account-
books in the evening, balancing one column with another, and at the end of
it looking each other in the face, agreeing that they would have to “cut
down this expense,” and that they could “save a little there.” The love of the
senses had died out quickly between them, but its place had been taken by a
deep affection, by the steady accumulation of small incidents of loyalty and
unselfishness, of difficulties faced and fought together. They had never
ventured upon first principles. They had fixed their attention upon the
immediate necessities of the moment.
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