“Youth is the day the field to scour,
The time of conquests won,
The pause, wherein to hark at trysting hour
To the whispered word
That is gently heard
In the wake of the passing sun—­”

“What’s it all about?” grumbled Chappy.  “And I’m sure ‘morn’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘dawn.’” at which Doe went white with pain, and numbered the doctor among the Philistines.

“It’s a very distinguished attempt to catch the spirit of Horace’s fine ode,” answered Radley, and Doe turned red again with pleasure, forgiving Radley all the unkindness he had ever perpetrated, and enrolling him among the Elect.

Now Pennybet liked to be the centre of attraction at friendly little gatherings like this, and had little inclination to sit and listen to people praising those who recently had been nothing but his satellites.  So he lit a cigarette and said: 

“It’s entirely the result of my training that these young people have turned out so well.”

“Pennybet,” explained Radley, “you’re a purblind egotist and will come to a bad end.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, sir,” said Penny, crossing his legs that he might the more comfortably discuss his end with Radley.  “I’ve always managed to do what I’ve wanted and to come out of it all right.”

“Oh, you have, have you?” sneered Chappy.

“Always,” answered Penny, unabashed.  “It’s a favourite saying of my mother’s that ’adverse conditions will never conquer her wilful son.’”

“Good God!” cried the doctor, rightly appalled.

“Yes,” continued the speaker, delighted to tease the doctor, “for instance, I made up my mind all the time I was here to stick in a low form.  It was an easier life, and fun to boss kids like Edgar Doe and Rupert Ray.  And I pulled all the strings of the famous Bramhall Riot, as Ray knows.  And I just did sufficient work to pass into Sandhurst.  And I shall be just satisfactory enough to get my commission.  Then I shall do all in my power to provoke a European War, so that there will be a good chance of promotion—­”

“There’s a type of man,” interrupted Radley, “who’d start a prairie fire, if it were the only way to light his pipe.”

“Exactly.  And I am he.”

“Good God!” repeated Chappy.

“And, after peace is declared, I shall settle down to a comfortable life at the club.”

“It’s a relief,” smiled Radley, “that you won’t lead a revolution and usurp the throne.”

“Too much trouble.  I may go into Parliament, which is a comfortable job.  On the Tory side, of course, because there you don’t have to think.”

“You’ve about fifty years of life,” suggested Radley.  “And don’t you want to do anything constructive in that time?”

“Not in these trousers!  I know that, if I were sincere and constructive in my politics, I should be a Socialist.  It stands to reason that it can’t be right for all the wealth to be in the pockets of the few, and for there to be a distinct and cocky governing class.  But, as I want to amass wealth and enjoy the position of the ruling class, I shall be careful not to think out my politics, lest I develop a pernicious Socialism.”