It was perfectly impossible for David not to feel elated at sitting down to strawberry-mess with two members of the eleven, in the full light of day, and in sight of the school generally, or, having dreamed night and day of being “some good” in house-matches, not to feel exalted when those dreams had merged into realities that so far exceeded all his imaginings. But in a little while Maddox and Tomlin began to speak in undertones, and David rose, with the sense that private conversation was going forward. “I think I’ll be getting back to house,” he said. “Thanks awfully for the strawberry-mess, Tomlin.” “Wait a minute,” said Maddox. “I’m coming down in a second. Go and blow yourself out a little more.” David thought it the part of wisdom not to do that, and strolled outside to wait for his friend. Glorious as all those things had been there was nothing so glorious as that Frank and he had been associated in them. That friendship meant more to him than cricket, or this sort of open recognition of itself. Till now their ages and places in the school had necessarily divided them in public; and so to-day it was best of all the delicious happenings when Frank joined him, and they went off together. “The Head asked after you this afternoon, David,” said Frank. “Made inquiries. I told him you were fairly rotten.” David did not rise at this. “You always stick up for a chap,” he observed. “Anything else?” “Yes. I may as well tell you, as everybody else will know by chapel-time. Fact is, I’m putting you into the twenty-two to-night. And on Saturday, next week, you’re playing in the eleven and sixteen match for the eleven.” David stopped quite dead. And then he thought he saw. Frank had tried to get a rise out of him just now and failed, and of course was trying again. It wasn’t really quite nice of him to try to get a rise out of him over such matters, but then he didn’t know how dreadfully David cared. “Oh! Jolly funny!” he said, and walked on again. “David, do you think I’m such a brute as to try to get a rise out of you with that sort of thing?” asked Frank. “B-b-but do you mean it’s true?” asked David suddenly stammering. “Yes, you ass. That’s what I wanted to consult Tommy about, and he agrees. We can’t have a kid like you bowling the eleven out, so you’ve jolly well got to bowl the sixteen out instead. And I’ll take away your twenty-two cap, if you don’t.” “Oh, Frank, I can’t quite believe it,” said David. “What’s it all for? What have I done?” “That’s one of your bad points, as I told the Head,” said Frank. “I said you were filthily conceited.” “Lord!” said David. “Well, congratters on your twenty-two. And you can bring your preparation to my study if you like, and I’ll give you a construe. I haven’t got any work to do myself.” “Comes of being a scholar of Trinity,” remarked David, and fled.