Where he did such good work was in sharpening the fellows to excel.  He kept them to the grindstone, so that they had no time for rusty brooding; and it was fit done by exhortations off a pedestal, like St. Paul at the Athenians, it breathed out of him every day of the week.  He carried a light for followers.  Whatever he demanded of them, he himself did it easily.  He would say to boys, “You’re going to be men,” meaning something better than women.  There was a notion that Matey despised girls.  Consequently, never much esteemed, they were in disfavour.  The old game was mentioned only because of a tradition of an usher and governess leering sick eyes until they slunk away round a corner and married, and set up a school for themselves—­an emasculate ending.  Comment on it came of a design to show that the whole game had been examined dismissed as uninteresting and profitless.

One of the boys alluded in Matey’s presence to their general view upon the part played by womankind on the stage, confident of a backing; and he had it, in a way:  their noble chief whisked the subject, as not worth a discussion; but he turned to a younger chap, who said he detested girls, and asked him how about a sister at home; and the youngster coloured, and Matey took him and spun him round, with a friendly tap on the shoulder.

Odd remarks at intervals caused it to be suspected that he had ideas concerning girls.  They were high as his head above the school; and there they were left, with Algebra and Homer, for they were not of a sort to inflame; until the boys noticed how he gave up speaking, and fell to hard looking, though she was dark enough to get herself named Browny.  In the absence of a fair girl of equal height to set beside her, Browny shone.

She had a nice mouth, ready for a smile at the corners, or so it was before Matey let her see that she was his mark.  Now she kept her mouth asleep and her eyes half down, up to the moment of her nearing to pass, when the girl opened on him, as if lifting her eyelids from sleep to the window, a full side—­look, like a throb, and no disguise—­no slyness or boldness either, not a bit of languishing.  You might think her heart came quietly out.

The look was like the fall of light on the hills from the first of morning.  It lasted half a minute, and left a ruffle for a good half-hour.  Even the younger fellows, without knowing what affected them, were moved by the new picture of a girl, as if it had been a frontispiece of a romantic story some day to be read.  She looked compelled to look, but consenting and unashamed; at home in submission; just the look that wins observant boys, shrewd as dogs to read by signs, if they are interested in the persons.  They read Browny’s meaning:  that Matey had only to come and snatch her; he was her master, and she was a brave girl, ready to go all over the world with him; had taken to him as he to her, shot for shot.  Her taking to the pick of the school was a capital proof that she was of the right sort.  To be sure, she could not much help herself.