o lie abroad for the
benefit of my country, in the words of the ancient saying."

"There is no fear of that, for you would never pass the examination,"
said the practical Godfrey. "You see, you are too clever," he added by
way of explanation, "and too much occupied with a dozen things of which
examiners take no account, the merits of the various religious systems,
for instance."

"So are you," interrupted Arthur.

"I know I am; I love them. I'd like to talk to you about reincarnation
and astronomy, of which I know something, and even astrology and the
survival of the dead and lots of other things. But I have got to make
my way in the world, and I've no time. You think me a heavy bore and an
old fogey because I won't go to parties to which lots of those nice
fellows ask me. Do you suppose I shouldn't like the parties and all the
larks afterwards and the jolly actresses and the rest? Of course I
should, for I'm a man like others. But I tell you I haven't time. I've
flouted my father, and I'm on my honour, so to speak, to justify myself
and get on. So I mean to pass that tomfool examination and to cram down
a lot of stuff in order to do so, which is of no more use to me than
though I had swallowed so much brown paper. Fool-stuff, pulped by fools
to be the food of fools--that's what it is. And now I'm going to shove
some spoonfuls of it down my throat, so light your pipe, and please be
quiet."

"One moment more of your precious time," interrupted Arthur. "What is
the exact career that you propose to adorn? Something foreign, I
think--Indian Civil Service?"

"No, as I have told you a dozen times, Indian Army."

"The army has points--possibly in the future it might give a man an
opportunity of departing from the world in a fashion that is generally,
if in error, considered to be decent. India, too, has still more
points, for there anyone with intelligence might study the beginnings
of civilisation, which, perhaps, are also its end. My friend, I, too,
will enter the Indian Army, that is if I can pass the examination.
Provide me at once with the necessary books and, Mrs. Parsons, be
good-hearted enough to bring some of your excellent coffee, brewed
double strong. Do not imagine, young man, who ought, by the way, to
have been born fifty years earlier and married my aunt, that you are
the only one who can face and conquer facts, even those advanced by
that most accursed of empty-headed bores, the man or the maniac called