John's first week at Sedley passed with amazing rapidity. It was all new to him, and enjoyable also. The masters were such a decent set of fellows, and already John had formed a strong alliance with Vernley. He had had tremendous good luck in this. Vernley was in his second year and entitled to a study. A small room at the end of the corridor was vacant, but it was only large enough for two boys. All the other studies had four occupants, save fellows in the fifth and sixth forms who had attained to the dignity of separate rooms. When Vernley discovered that he was the odd man out with a study of his own, he went straightaway to Mr. Fletcher and asked permission for John to share it, which was readily granted. He and John entered into partnership. So far the alliance had been a great success. It was the Wednesday half-holiday and John had just had his first game of football. Exhilarated by the exercise and the novelty of it all, he had changed from his muddy shorts and red and white shirt, wallowed in the bath, and now sat stiff and tired in a wicker chair, holding toast to the fire, while Vernley got out the tea cups. Tea was the one meal they had in private, and both boys gloried in it. John, burning the toast furiously, sniffed with delight. "I say Verny--toast is the incense of the appetite--isn't it good?" and he sniffed long and loud. Vernley looked at him. John's curiously turned nostrils always fascinated him, they were just like the faun's in the drawing class. "You ought to be called Bunny, not Scissors," he said, pouring hot water into the teapot. "Why?" asked John turning round in the chair. "Damn!--watch that toast, it'll be black! Why, because you twitch your nose like a rabbit. That's enough, don't toast any more." There was a long break in the conversation, filled with the noise of crunching. "I shall have to go in a minute--I forgot to fill Lindon's kettle," said John. "Hang Lindon--he's always running you about. I knew he would. He doesn't like your being here." "Don't talk rot--he's been jolly decent to me, he was coaching me all this afternoon. He's going to give me an hour at racquets to-morrow," said John, defending Lindon stoutly; then seeing that he had hurt Vernley-- "I say, Verny--don't be jealous--only it is decent of him. Why don't you like him?" He looked at Vernley, who shifted uneasily and kicked the fender. "I never said I didn't like him," he answered. "But I know you don't--what's the reason?" "Well--it's because you're such a kid, Scissors." "Thanks, you're a year older--but that's no reason." "P'raps not--but I knew Lindon would go for you--I said so the first night." "To-day's the first time he's taken any notice of me." "Is it?--he's watched you like a cat for a week. You don't know Lindon--I do." "Then why are you so mysterious about him?" Vernley got up and cut himself a piece of cake. "Have a piece, Scissors?" "Thanks."