Watersprings

l oriel, the ivied buttresses and battlements, the turrets, the tiled roofs, the quaint chimneys, and the lead-topped cupola over all. Half the court was in shadow. It was

ng pebbles which floored the pathways. The golden hands of the clock pointed to a quarter to ten, and the chimes uttered their sharp, peremptory voices.

an interesting, expressive face, not technically handsome, but both clever and good-natured. He was carelessly dressed in rather old but well-cut clothes, and had an air of business-like decisiveness which became him well, and made him seem comfortably at home in the place; he nodded and smiled to the undergraduates at the gate, who smiled back and saluted. He met a yo

at, with a black tie, and wore rather light grey trousers. One would have taken him for an old-fashioned country solicitor. He was, as a matter of fact, the Vice-Master and Senior Fellow of

the garden," said Howard

. Redmayne; "it will be quit

ides by high walls, and overlooking the river on the fourth side; a gravel path ran all round; there were a few trees, bare and leafless, and a big

flowers?" said Mr. Redmayne, p

ways the first to struggle up, and they are the

ust say that I prefer the works of man to the works of God at all times and in all places. I don't like the

ms, but evidently enjoying the younger man's company. At something which he said, Howard uttere

time of life and see everything going to pieces round you, you have occasionally

bject," said Howard; "you kn

er them! Now in my time, when the undergraduates complained about the veal in Hall, old Grant sent for us third-year men, and said that he understood there were complaints about the veal, of which he fu

y went in, Mr. Redmayne put his hand in Howard's arm, and said, "Don't mind me, my young frie

to his side with a movement of his arm. "I shall c

ly, and that would get you a solid mark." Then he sat for a minute or two talking about the books his pupil was reading, and indicating the points he was to look out for, till at half-past ten another youth appeared to go through the same process. This went on until twelve o'clock. Howard's manner was kindly and busin

fire, but instead of taking the paper, drew a solemn-looking cat, which was sitting regarding the hearth, on to his knee, and began playing with it. Presently Howard threw his pen down. "Come along," he said. The boy, still carrying the cat, came and sat down beside him. The lesson proceeded as before, but there was a slight difference in Howard's manner of speech, as of an uncle with a favourite nephew. At the end, he pushed the paper into the b

vant came in and asked How

h for two-you can stay and lunch with me, Jack;

s, thanks very mu

good, and quite irresistibly charming in his naivete and simplicity. Howard had a dislike of all sentimentality, but the suppressed paternal instinct which was strong in him had been awakened; and though he made no emotional advances, he found himself strangely drawn to the boy, with a feeling for which he could not wholly account. He did not care for Jack's athletic interests; his tastes and mental processes were obscure to him. Howard's own nature was at once intellectual and imaginative, but he felt an extreme delight in the fearless and direct confidence which the boy showed in him. He criticised his work unsparingly, he rallied him on his tastes, he snubbed him, but all with a sense of real and instinctive sympathy which made everything easy. The boy never resented anything that he said, asked his advi

n vain. That cheerful youth went quietly on his own way-modest, handsome, decided, knowing exactly what he liked, with very material tastes and ambitions, not in the least emotional or imaginative, and yet with a charm of which all were conscious. He was bored by any violent attempts at friendship, and quite content in almost anyone's company, naturally self-contained and temperate, making no claims and giving no pledges; and yet Howard was deeply h

ooked out on the river. They both ate with healthy appetites; and presently Jack, looking

panelled rooms don't want any ornaments; people spoil rooms by stuffing them, j

ould be what the Master calls a serious responsibility." Presently, after a moment's silence, Jack said, "It's rather convenient

on't mind your asking, and I don't mind your k

do it for less. But I said it was much less. My father only gets about two hundred a year out of his living, and it all goes to keep me at Cambridge. He says that w

e a very mercenary

er's awfully good about it, really; but if ever I spend too much, he shakes his head and ta

feet from the floor and about seven feet high. It was a theory of Howard's that you ought to be able to see all your books without either stooping or climbing. There was a big knee-hole table and half a dozen chairs. There was an old portrait in oils over the mantelpiece, several arm-chairs

onfess that I like work and feel dull without

efore I have done with it. It's rather pointless, I think. Of course it's quite amusing; but I want to

ut anything but money," said

ouldn't go on just learning things up till I was twenty-three, and then teaching them till I was sixty

care about real t

r, "because of course you are quite different from the other

sure that it is a compliment-a tradesman ought to be a trade

last term. I don't remember what they were exactly, but I thought the lect

ing. "I declare I have never had such extraordinary th

t mind, do you? That's the best thing about you, that I can say what I think to you withou

ell what I think. There isn't any harm in you; but you are idle, and you are inquisitive. I don't want you

done with all this nonsense about the classics; it really is humbug, isn't it? Such a fuss about nothing. The books I like are those in which people say what

l have to do things in which you

t help it when I am with you; I feel I must say just what comes into my head; I must fly; thank you for lunch; and I truly will do better, but mind only for

g at the fire; then he gave a laugh, got up,

o close to Cambridge on every side; a vague collection of quaint irregular cottages, whitewashed and thatched, with bits of green common interspersed, an old manorial farm with its byres and ricks, surrounded by a moat fringed with little pollarded elms. The plain ancient tower of the church looked gravely out over all. In the distance, over pastoral country, rose low wolds, pleasantly shaped, skirted with little hamlets, surrounded by orchards; the old untroubled necessary work of the world flows on in these

a square. The business was mostly formal. The Vice-Chancellor read the points from a paper in his resonant voice, comments and suggestions were made, and the Secretary noted down conclusions. Howard was struck, as he often had been before, to see how the larger questions of principle passed almost unnoticed, while the s

nt crony of Mr. Redmayne's, the Dean of a neighbouring College. The talk was mainly local and personal, diverging at times into politics. It was brisk, sensible, good-natured conversation, by no means unamusing. Mr. Redmayne was an unashamed Tory, and growled denunciations at a democratic Government, whom he credited with every political vice under the sun, depicting the Cabinet as men fishing in troubled seas with philanthropic baits to catch votes. One of the younger dons, a

ersed only to pass the time. But it was all good-humoured enough, and even the ver

he dim portraits above the panelling, the gleam of gilded cornices were a pleasant contrast to the lively talk, the brisk coming and going, the clink and clatter below. It was noisy indeed, but noisy as a healthy and friendly family party is noisy, with no turbulence. Once or twice a great shout of laughter rang out

me party sat round the fire at little tables, sipped a glass of port, and went on to coffee and cigarettes, while the talk became more general. Howard felt, as he had often felt before, how little attention even able and intellectual Englishmen paid to the form of their talk. There was hardly

world; a few foreign tours in the company of an old friend had given him nothing but an emotional tincture of recollections and associations-a touch of varnish, so to speak. Suddenly the remembrance of some of the things which Jack Sandys had said that morning came back to him; "real things" the boy had said, so lightly and yet so decisively. He wondered; had he himself ever had any touch with realities at all? He had been touched by no adversity or tragedy, he had been devastated by no disappointed ambitions, shattered by no emotions. His whole life had been perfectly under his control, and he had grown into a sort of contempt for all unbalanced people, who were run away with by their instincts or passions. It had been a very comfortable, sheltered, happy life; he was sure of that; he had enjoyed his work, his relations with others, his friendships; but had he ever come near to any fulness of living at all? Was it not, when all was said and done, a very empty affair-void of experience, guarded from suffering? "Suffering?" he hardly knew the meaning of the word. Had he ever felt or su

make up for the loss by the elaborate pursuit of games. He did not touch the springs of being at all. He had collapsed, he felt, into placid acquiescence; Nature had been too strong for him. He had fitted so easily into the pleasant scheme of things, and he was doing nothing in the world but helping to prolong the delusion, just as men set painted glass in a window to shut out the raincloud and the wind. He was a conformist, he felt, in everything-in religion, intellect, life-but a sceptic underneath. Was he not perhaps

h to launch him in the world. He came to ask some advice about work. Howard entered into his case as well as he could, told him it was important that he should

ucation in touch with life, try to show what human beings are driving at, what arrangements they are making that they may live? It is all arrangements with us-the frame for the picture, the sheath for the sword-and we leave the picture and the sword to look after themselves. What a wretched dilettante business it all is, keeping these boys practising postures in the anteroom of life! Cannot we get at the real thing, teach peopl