Boarding schools -- England -- Fiction; Boys -- Fiction; Schools -- Fiction; Social classes -- England -- Fiction
And yet somehow Jan felt as though a loophole had been stopped at the
back of his brain; and an inquiry within made him ashamed to discover
what the loophole had been. Evan would have found out, and never have
let him bear the brunt; in the end Evan’s honesty would have saved them
both, because nothing paid like honesty with dear old Thrale. That was
what Jan saw, now that seeing it could only make him feel a beast! It
was almost a relief to realise that Evan would still be ruined if the
truth leaked out through other lips, and that a friend’s were thus
sealed closer than before.
The Heriots were very late in coming in. Why was that? But at last the
sentinel showed an important face, fulminating “Hush!” And sister and
brother entered in the usual silence.
Miss Heriot took her place at the piano under the shelf bearing the now
solitary cup of which Jan might almost be described as the solitary
winner; at any rate the present house eleven consisted, like the
historic Harrow eleven, of Rutter “and ten others.” The ten, nay, the
thirty others then present could not have guessed a tenth or a thirtieth
part of all that was in their bowler’s mind that night.
Mr. or Miss Heriot always chose a good hymn; to-night it was No. 22,
Ancient and Modern; a simple thing, and only appropriate to the time of
year, but still rather a favourite of Jan’s. He found himself braying
out the air from the top of the Sixth Form table, as though nothing
could happen to him, while Chips Carpenter lorded it like every captain
of that house, with his back to the empty grate, and fondly imagined
that he was singing bass. Neither friend and contemporary would ever
have done much credit to the most musical school in England, and now
only one of them would be able to go about saying that he had ever been
there!
Unless ... and there was no telling from Heriot’s voice.
It was the same unaffected, manly voice which had appealed to Jan on his
very first night in hall; the prayers were the same, a characteristic
selection only used in that house; but whereas a few phrases had struck
Jan even on that occasion, now he knew them all off by heart, but
listened with no less care in order to remember them if possible at the
ends of the earth.
“O Lord, Who knowest our peculiar temptations here, help us by Thy Holy
Spirit to struggle against them. Save us from being ashamed of Thee and
of our duty. Save us from the base and degrading fear of one
another....” Jan hoped he had stood up sufficiently to the other old
choices in the Eleven; he could not help an ungodly feeling that he had;
but he had been very down on his luck earlier in the term.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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