ut his head, and worked and worked without
ceasing.

"In the earlier examinations, which demand only memory, he won first
honours. But even success could not induce him to relax his efforts; he
lived laborious days and took every college examination seriously; he
made out dates in red ink, and hung them on his wall, and learnt pages
of uninteresting events and put them in blue ink in his memory, and at
last came out of the 'Final Schools' with second honours. And now, I
concluded, 'this model youth is going into life, and he is certain to
treat it seriously, certain to win at any rate second honours in it, and
have a great and praiseworthy career.'

"Frank, they roared with laughter, and, to do Curzon justice, at the end
he came up to me and apologised, and was charming. Indeed, they all made
much of me and we had a great night.

"I remember we talked all the night through, or rather I talked and
everyone else listened, for the great principle of the division of
labour is beginning to be understood in English Society. The host gives
excellent food, excellent wine, excellent cigarettes, and
super-excellent coffee, that's his part, and all the men listen, that's
theirs: while I talk and the stars twinkle their delight.

"Wyndham was there, too; you know George Wyndham, with his beautiful
face and fine figure: he is infinitely cleverer than Curzon but he has
not Curzon's push and force, or perhaps, as you say, he is not in such
close touch with the average man as Curzon; he was charming to me.

"In the morning we all trooped out to see the dawn, and some of the
young ones, wild with youth and high spirits, Curzon of course among the
number, stripped off their clothes and rushed down to the lake and began
swimming and diving about like a lot of schoolboys. There is a great
deal of the schoolboy in all Englishmen, that is what makes them so
lovable. When they came out they ran over the grass to dry themselves,
and then began playing lawn tennis, just as they were, stark naked, the
future rulers of England. I shall never forget the scene. Wilfred Blunt
had gone up to his wife's apartments and had changed into some fantastic
pyjamas; suddenly he opened an upper window and came out and perched
himself, cross-legged, on the balcony, looking down at the mad game of
lawn tennis, for all the world like a sort of pink and green Buddha,
while I strolled about with someone, and ordered fresh coffee and talked
till the dawn came w