Now, there is in the Latin Grammar a morality contained in an example of a conditional sentence which runs in the following words:—"Even though they are silent they say enough." In spite of Ralph's desperate efforts to assume ignorance it was quite obvious to April that he knew all about it, also that it was something that Roland would not want her to know. She was puzzled and distressed. If there had been no embarrassment between them during the holidays she would probably have written to Roland and asked him about it, but under the conditions she felt that this was impossible.
"I shall have to wait till he returns," she said. "Perhaps he will tell me of his own accord."
But when Roland came home he showed not the slightest inclination to tell her anything. If he were acting a part he was acting it extraordinarily well. He told her how glad he was that he was leaving Fernhurst. "One outgrows school," he said. "It is all right for a bit. It is great fun when you are a fag and when you are half-way up; but it is not worth it when you have got responsibilities. And as I went there at thirteen—a year earlier than most people—nearly all my friends will have left. I should have been very lonely next term. I think I am well out of it."
April reminded him of his eagerness to go to Oxford. That objection, too, he managed to brush aside.
"Oxford," he said; "that is nothing but school over again. It is masters and work and regulations. I am very glad it is over."
For a while she was almost tempted to believe he was telling her the truth, but as August passed she noticed that Roland seemed less satisfied with his prospects. He spoke with diminishing enthusiasm of the freedom of an office. Indeed, whenever she introduced the subject he changed it quickly.
"I expect father will find me something decent soon," he would say, and began to talk of cricket or of some rag that he remembered.
But Mr Whately was not finding it easy to procure a post for his son. Roland, after all, possessed no special qualifications. He had been in the Sixth Form of a public school, but he had not been a particularly brilliant member of it. He had passed no standard examinations. He was too young for any important competitive work and Mr Whately had very few influential friends. Roland began to see before him the prospect of long days spent in a bank—a dismal prospect. "What will it lead to, father?" he used to ask, and Mr Whately had not been able to hold out very much encouragement.
"Well, I suppose in time if you work well you would become a manager. If you do anything brilliant you might be given some post of central organisation."
"But it is not very likely, is it, father?" said Roland.