o make an enemy. I would have paid all my pocket-money twice over
for a quarrel or a fight with somebody. But that was a luxury harder to
get even than a friendly word.

I tried one day.

I was mooning disconsolately round the playground, when I met young
Wigram, the most artless youngster in all Draven's.

"You played up well in the second fifteen on Saturday," I said, as if I
had spoken to him not five minutes ago, whereas, as a matter of fact,
the sound of my own voice gave me quite a shock.

"Yes," began he, falling into the snare, "I was lucky with that run up
from--er--I--beg pardon--good-bye," and he bolted precipitately.

It was a mild victory as far as it went, but it did not end there, for
that afternoon I came upon a group in the playground, the central figure
of which was the wretched Wigram, on his knees in the act of apologising
humbly all round for having been cad enough to speak to me. It seemed a
good chance for the long-wished-for quarrel, and I jumped at it.

"Let him go!" shouted I, breaking into the group and addressing the
company generally. "If any one touches him he will have to fight me!"

Alas! they stared a little, and then laughed a little, and then strolled
away, with Wigram among them, leaving me alone. After that I knew I was
beaten, and might as well own it, for a disappointed enemy is a far
worse failure than a disappointed friend.

Still I clung on to my pride. Broken down as I was, and unnerved and
damaged in my self-respect, there was but a week more of the term to
run, and I would try to hold out till the end. If I could only do that,
I was safe, for I would get my father to take me away at Christmas for
good. No--would I?--that would be the biggest surrender of all. I
could not think what I would do.

So I sat down and wrote to Browne for lack of any better occupation, and
told him how I envied him his expulsion, and wished any such luck could
happen to me.

Then I grimly set myself to endure the remaining days of my slow
torture.

Oh, the silence of those days! The noise and laughter of the fellows
was nothing to it. I could endure the one, and in my extremity was even
glad of it. But the sealed lips of everyone that met me were like so
many daggers.

At last I was really ill--or at any rate I was so reduced that unless
relief came soon I must either capitulate or run away.

Even yet I found it hard to contemplate the former alternative. I met
Harrison