nd Swinburne had beaten so loudly on
their drums, and blown so forcibly on the clarion that his ears had been
deafened. But in the peaceful afterglow of satisfied desire he asked for
soft and quiet music.

During this time he saw a great deal of Ferrers. Together they discussed
all the questions that to them seemed most vital. The Public School
system came in for a great deal of abuse.

"A lot wants altering," Ferrers said. "Boys come here fresh from
preparatory schools. If they are clever and get into higher forms, they
are put among bigger boys, and they get their outlook coloured by them.
They get wrong impressions shoved into their heads, cease to think at
all, lose all sense of honesty and morality. Then the school that has
made them like this finds out what they are, and sends them away."

"By Jove, that's just what Jeffries said."

"Jeffries--who is Jeffries? I don't know him."

"He was a splendid fellow; but, like most other people, he followed the
crowd, then got caught and had to go."

"That is it; always the same. Usually the least bad are sacked, too;
never heard of a real rake getting sent away; the rakes are far too
clever. Cleverness is what counts, counts all through life. A man is
expelled only because he is not clever enough to avoid being caught, and
then the school thinks it's saving the others by sending him away. And
it does no good. The big wrong 'un stays on, only the weak one goes.
Human nature is a thing that has got to be dealt with carefully, not in
the half-hearted way it is here."

Ferrers wrote a great deal about Public Schools to the various London
papers. He was fast winning a name in the educational world. But he was
always being asked to modify his statements. He raved against the
weakness of the authorities.

"They don't want to know the truth," he said, "they are afraid to hear
it. 'Tell us lies,' that's what they say. 'Lull us into a false
security. A big bust-up is coming soon, but keep it off till after we
are gone.' They know their house is built on sand, running out into the
river. They want to barricade their own tiny houses for a little. I want
to go and search for the big firm land, but they are too comfortable on
their cushions and fine linen to dare to move. Oh, prophesy smooth
things!"

Gordon listened intently to it all. Ferrers was his ideal. Often they
would talk of books: of the modern novel; of Compton Mackenzie, in whom
idealism and realism were one; of Ru