As he stood by the _grille_ at the porter's lodge, the old Prawn himself passed slowly out, with his shoulders bent, and his old eyes staring straight before him with an absent, lack-lustre expression in them. Perhaps he was thinking that life might have been more cheerful for him if his wife Mary had lived, and he had had her and boys like that young Langton to meet him when his wearisome day was over, instead of being childless and a widower, and returning to the lonely, dingy house which he occupied as the incumbent of a musty church hard by. Whatever he thought of, he was too engaged to notice Mark, who followed him with his eyes as he slowly worked his way up the flight of stone steps which led to the street level. 'Shall I ever come to that?' he thought. 'If I stay here all my life, I _may_. Ah, there's Gilbertson--he can tell me about this Speech-day business.' Gilbertson was a fellow-master, and one of the committee for arranging the Speech-day entertainment. For the rest he was a nervously fussy little man, and met Mark with evident embarrassment. 'Well, Gilbertson,' said Mark, as unconcernedly as he could, 'settled your programme yet?' 'Er--oh yes, quite settled--quite, that is, not definitely as yet.' 'And--my little production?' 'Oh, ah, to be sure, yes, your little production. We all liked it very much--oh, exceedingly so--the Doctor especially--charmed with it, my dear Ashburn, charmed!' 'Very glad to hear it,' said Mark, with a sudden thrill; 'and--and have you decided to take it, then?' 'Well,' said Mr. Gilbertson, looking at the pavement all round him, 'you see, the fact is, the Doctor thought, and some of us thought so too, that a piece to be acted by boys should have a leetle more--eh? and not quite so much--so much of what yours has, and a few of those little natural touches, you know--but you see what I mean, don't you?' 'It would be a capital piece with half that in it,' said Mark, trying to preserve his temper, 'but I could easily alter it, you know, Gilbertson.' 'No, no,' said Gilbertson, eagerly, 'you mustn't think of it; you'd spoil it; we couldn't hear of it, and--and it won't be necessary to trouble you. Because, you see, the Doctor thought it was a little long, and not quite light enough; and not exactly the sort of thing we want, but we all admired it.' 'But it won't do? Is that what you mean?' 'Why--er--nothing definite at present. We are going to write you a letter about it. Good-bye, good-bye! Got a train to catch at Ludgate Hill.' And he bustled away, glad to escape, for he had not counted upon having to announce a rejection in person. Mark stood looking after him, with a slightly dazed feeling. _That_ was over, then. He had written works which he felt persuaded had only to become known to bring him fame; but for all that it seemed that he was not considered worthy to entertain a Speech-night audience at a London public school.