And now he was being carried away from all that happiness! He was going back to bare noisy rooms, to a crowd of boys and worried masters. Would such times as he had had ever come again? His hand at that moment rested on something hard in his pocket. It was Muriel's photograph which she had given him before breakfast. He had looked at it hurriedly then, in its tissue cover. Now he wanted to take it out and feast his eyes upon it. He looked up; Vernley was chewing butterscotch and still immersed in his book. He did not want the old lady sitting near to see him gazing at the photograph, so he got up and went into the adjoining lavatory. There he bolted the door and pulled out the precious packet. Slipping the photograph from its paper cover, he saw it was a small cabinet in sepia by Neame, New Bond Street, of Muriel in her riding coat and cap. As he pulled it out something dropped to the floor. It was a small piece of tissue paper. He was disappointed, for he thought it was a note. Then seeing its shape, he knew it contained something, which, after unwrapping, proved to be a strand of hair. John immediately kissed it with all the sentiment of fifteen. He was about to wrap it up again, when he had an inspiration. It was another pledge of love and should be placed with Ali's gift. John pulled out the chain with its moonstone pendant, which he faithfully wore, and tied the strand of hair around the link. Then, putting the photograph back into his pocket, he returned to the carriage. The platform was crowded when they arrived at Sedley and there was a fierce fight for seats in the brake. John found himself separated from Vernley, but half an hour later, as he was going towards Mrs. Fletcher's room, he was caught by the arm. "I say, Scissors, what do you think?" asked Vernley excitedly. "We've got a new study! Maitland told me, and I didn't believe him, but it's on the list. There's another fellow in with us--what a nuisance! I don't know who he is." "What's his name?" "Marsh--Maitland says he's a new kid, tons of money and a motor bike. He was at Eton and has come here for some reason. It looks queer--we don't want Eton's cast-offs." "I beg your pardon," said a quiet voice. The boys turned to find themselves surveyed by a calm young gentleman. He smiled at them in a superior way. "My name is Marsh--of whom you speak. If my presence is offensive to your secluded domain, I'll remove myself." "Pompous ass," thought John. Vernley stared at him. "Well, we are friends y' see," said Vernley at last. "So I perceive," murmured the tall youth, looking at Vernley, who had his arm in John's. There might have been something offensive in the fact, and the stranger impressed this upon them. Vernley drew his arm away. "Do you always _perceive_ things?" asked John sarcastically.