Rouse was walking slowly from the school towards the playing fields. He was clad in a blazer surmounted by a wide school muffler, wound several times round his neck, and upon his head he wore a velvet cap heavily embroidered with brocade. Rouse was at peace with all the world. The wonderful thing had happened at last: he was captain of Rugby football at Harley. That it would come had been a foregone conclusion amongst those who knew. Rouse himself had been a little doubtful. For one thing he was not yet in the Sixth, and though he had certainly been made a prefect in spite of this fact the previous term, he knew that he was commonly regarded as a boy who could see nothing but the silly side of things. He had been sorry about this because, in spite of his extravagant sense of humour and his consistent lightheartedness, he could be serious enough over things that really mattered, and to him Rugger was one of the things that really did. Only his closest friends were permitted to understand this side of his character, for he was sensitive about it, but he found that just as it pays one man to seem a fool so it sometimes paid him to maintain a reputation for irresponsibility. Toby and Terence knew him best, and the Grey Man had grown to understand him; extraordinarily well too. These had known that if he were elected captain of football he would make good. Moreover the school had wanted him to be elected. He was easily the most popular player in the whole of Harley, and besides, he was the most senior of the old colours, which was always the main consideration in electing the new captain. Well, they had elected him. It had been quite an uproarious meeting, too; there had been no end of enthusiasm. One small clique had certainly put up another man whom they claimed was of equal seniority in the Fifteen, but on hearing his name proposed the gentleman in question had instantly and somewhat confusedly refused to stand, loudly disclaiming any desire to skipper a team which could claim the leadership of a man like Rouse; and amidst loud and approving cheers he had seized the hand of Rouse and wrung it with the utmost enthusiasm; after which his friends had been at some pains to explain to their neighbours that they had only mentioned his name to let him know that he had not been entirely forgotten. So Rouse had really achieved his great ambition.... It was hard not to chuckle. He progressed steadily towards the practice Rugger ground, singing gently to himself and picturing the season they were going to have. Secretly he longed to organise some great rag which should celebrate this event, for hitherto his life had been largely made up of rags. He realised now, however, that he would have to steady down. He had to train a team and lead them on the field, and he had to help Toby Nicholson teach small boys Rugger. That would take all his time, and for such employment it was worth while foregoing rags.