The booming basses
and baritones of the big fellows made him shiver with a curious
bitter-sweet sensation never experienced before.

Lastly, the pleasant discovery that his Form treated him with courtesy
and kindness. Desmond, in particular, welcomed him quite warmly. And
then and there John's heart was filled with a wild and unreasonable
yearning for this boy's friendship. But Desmond--he was called
"Caesar," because his Christian names were Henry Julius--seemed to be
very popular, a bright particular star, far beyond John's reach
although for ever in his sight. Caesar never offered to walk with him:
and he refused John's timid invitation to have food at the "Tudor
Creameries." [4] Was it possible that a boy about to enter Damer's
would not be seen walking and talking with a fellow out of Dirty
Dick's? This possibility festered, till one morning John saw his idol
walking up and down the School Yard with Scaife. That evening he said
to Scaife--

"Do you like Desmond?"

"Yes," Scaife replied decisively. "I like him better than any fellow
at Harrow. You know that his father is Charles Desmond--the Cabinet
Minister and a Governor of the school?"

"I didn't know it. I suppose Caesar Desmond likes you--_awfully_."

"Do you? I doubt it."

No more was said. John told himself that Caesar--he liked to think of
Desmond as Caesar--could pick and choose a pal out of at least three
hundred boys, half the school. How extremely unlikely that he, John,
would be chosen! But every night he lay awake for half an hour longer
than he ought to have done, wondering how, by hook or crook, he could
do a service to Caesar which must challenge interest and provoke,
ultimately, friendship.

Meantime, he was slowly initiated by the Caterpillar into Harrow ways
and customs. Fagging, which began after the first fortnight, he found
a not unpleasant duty. After first and fourth schools the other fags
and he would stand not far from the pantry, and yell out "Breakfast,"
or "Tea," as it might be, "for Number So-and-So." Perhaps one had to
nip up to the Creameries to get a slice of salmon, or cutlets, or
sausages. Fagging at Harrow--which varies slightly in different
houses--is hard or easy according to the taste and fancy of the fag's
master. Some of the Sixth Form at the Manor made their fags unlace
their dirty football boots. Kinloch, who since he left the nursery had
been waited upon by powdered footmen six feet high, now