t we found that he had actually started to
drive to Burtington and that something disastrous had happened on the
journey. The exact nature of that disaster none of us ever discovered,
but what Bunny wished us to believe was that he went to sleep and was
driven into by a furniture van, and since he had been kind enough to
start to Burtington we should have been a complete set of bounders if
we had not suppressed Dennison when he said that no one was likely to
believe such a tale as that. Anybody with a grain of decency could see
that Bunny had been having a very bad time, and though we all thanked
him tremendously when we got out at St. Cuthbert's, and told the driver
to take him on to Christchurch as fast as he could, he just sat in the
bottom of the cart and said nothing.

"I am afraid Bunny's ill," Ward said to me as soon as we got into
college, and we blamed ourselves for not seeing him to "The House,"
though had we done so we could not have got back to St. Cuthbert's
until a quarter-past twelve.

On the following morning Ward went round to see Bunny and found him
drinking beer with his breakfast, which was a thing he never dared to
do unless he felt aggressively well. Ward lunched with me and said
that Bunny was all right except that his feelings were in a state of
disorder.

"There is only one thing he is conceited about and that is his
driving," Ward explained, "and last night he was driving a cob which a
baby in arms could steer. Well, Bunny got upset, and is so ashamed of
himself that he is angry with everybody else. He will be all right by
dinner-time if he is left alone."

CHAPTER XII

THE USE AND ABUSE OF AN ESSAY

The day following the Burtington match was a very peaceful one, but the
evening brought with it a disturbance which was altogether unexpected.
I was engaged at nine o'clock to read an essay to Mr. Edwardes, and I
had been so energetic that I had written it two days before, which made
me feel virtuous. The subject of the essay was "Impressions of Roman
Society as gathered from Cicero's Letters," and I had taken more than
ordinary trouble over it, for it was the sort of question which I could
not answer without definite knowledge.

I went to Murray's rooms after dinner, and I remember telling him that
I believed I had written something which would persuade my tutor that I
had at least made an attempt to satisfy him. And Murray, who was
always trying to keep me out of rows and gi