each other, 'It's all very
well for the world to be proud of him, but we have the best right,
for we grew up with him and know the stories he used to tell us; and
when the time came for his going, it was we who waved from the
door--"
"Honoria--"
"But there is one thing you haven't told, and you shall now, if you
care to--about your examination and what you did at Oxford."
So he sat down beside her on a sand-hill and told her: about the long
low-ceiled room in the quadrangle of the Bodleian, the old marbles
which lined the walls, the examiner at the blue baize table, and the
little deal tables (all scribbled over with names and dates and
verses and ribald remarks) at which the candidates wrote; also of the
_viva voce_ examination in the antechamber of the Convocation House,
He told it all as if it were the great event he honestly felt it to
be.
"And the others," said she, "those who were writing around you, and
the examiner--how did you feel towards them?"
Taffy stared at her. "I don't know that I thought much about them."
"Didn't you feel as if it was a battle and you wanted to beat them
all?"
He broke out laughing. "Why, the examiner was an old man, as dry as
a stick! And I hardly remember what the others were like--except
one, a white-headed boy with a pimply face. I couldn't help noticing
him, because whenever I looked up there he was at the next table,
staring at me and chewing a quill."
"I can't understand," she confessed. "Often and often I have tried
to think myself a man--a man with ambition. And to me that has
always meant fighting. I see myself a man, and the people between me
and the prize have all to be knocked down or pushed out of the way.
But you don't even see them--all you see is a pimply-faced boy
sucking a quill. Taffy--"
"Yes?"
"I wish you would write to me when you get to Oxford.
Write regularly. Tell me all you do."
"You will like to hear?"
"Of course I shall. So will George. But it's not only that.
You have such an easy way of going forward; you take it for granted
you're going to be a great man--"
"I don't."
"Yes, you do. You think it just lies with yourself, and it is
nobody's business to interfere with you. You don't even notice those
who are on the same path. Now a woman would notice every one, and
find out all about them."
"Who said I wanted to be a great man?"
"Don't be silly, that's a good boy! There's your father coming out
of the chu
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