'What is the book?' inquired Mr. Warricombe.

'I don't know.--Oh, Mill's ~Logic~. Idiotic choice! They might
have known I had it already.'

'They clap him far more than they did Mr. Peak,' Sidwell whispered to
her mother, with satisfaction.

Buckland kept silence for a few minutes, then muttered:

'There's nothing I care about now till Chemistry and Geology. Here
comes old Wotherspoon. Now we shall know who is strongest in second
aorists. I shouldn't wonder if Peak takes both Senior Greek and
Latin. I heartily hope he'll beat that ass Chilvers.'

But the name so offensive to young Warricombe was the first that
issued from the Professor's lips. Beginning with the competition for
a special classical prize, Professor Wotherspoon announced that the
honours had fallen to 'Bruno Leathwaite Chilvers.'

'That young man is not badly supplied with brains, say what you
will,' remarked Mr. Warricombe.

Upon Bruno Leathwaite Chilvers keen attention was directed; every
pair of female eyes studied his graces, and female hands had a great
part in the applause that greeted his arising. Applause different in
kind from that hitherto bestowed; less noisy, but implying, one
felt, a more delicate spirit of commendation. With perfect
self-command, with singular facial decorum, with a walk which