It is always pleasant to appear better than one's equals. But Tester was a dangerous friend to have at a time when the mind is so open to impressions. For Tester had not risen to his position on his own merits alone. Lovelace major had always said he was not much good, and the year before had not given him his House cap. But Tester was a very great friend of Stewart's, the captain of the Eleven. Stewart gave him his Seconds for making twenty against the town, so Meredith had to give him his House cap. It is a school rule that a "Seconds" must have his House cap. Tester was not improved by his friendship with Stewart, and the pity was that he was really clever. He could always argue his case.
"I never asked to be brought into this world," he said, "I am just suddenly put here, and told to make the best of things; and I intend to make the best of things. I am going to do what I like with my life. Wrong and right are merely relative terms. They change to fit their environment. Baudelaire would not have been tolerated in the Hampstead Garden Suburb; Catullus would not have been received in Sparta. But at Paris and Rome customs were different. We only frame philosophies to suit our wishes. And I prefer to follow my own inclinations to those of a sham twentieth-century civilisation."
Gordon did not like this; but if one lives daily in the company of a man who is clever and a personality, one is bound to look at life, at times, at any rate, through his spectacles. Gordon began to look on things which he once objected to as quite natural and ordinary.
"I say, Caruthers, I hope you don't mind clearing out of here for a bit," Tester would say. "Stapleton is coming in for a few minutes. You quite understand, don't you?"
As soon as we begin to look on a thing as ordinary and natural, we also begin to think it is right. After a little Gordon ceased to worry whether such things were right or wrong. It was silly to quarrel with existing conditions, especially if they were rather pleasant ones. Gordon had a study with Tester till the end of the summer.
One day, towards the end of the Easter term, Gordon asked Tester, rather shyly, if he would leave him alone a little. "I've often cleared out for you, you know."
"Of course, that's quite all right, my dear fellow. Any time you like, I understand!" Tester smiled as he walked down the passage.
But during the winter term Gordon worried about little except football; when he was not playing, he was ragging. Form he looked on as a glorious recreation. He was learning more than he ever learned afterwards without making much effort. Macdonald was a scholar; he did not teach people by making them work, he taught them by making it impossible for them to forget what he told them. No one who has ever been through the Upper Fifth at Fernhurst would have the slightest difficulty in writing a character sketch of any English king, even though he might never have read a chapter about him. Macdonald made every man in history a living character; not a sort of rack on which to hang dates and facts.
Football, however, was not going quite so satisfactorily. Gordon was never tried for the Colts Fifteen, although he subsequently proved himself better than most of the other forwards in it, and had to play in House games every day. Once a week a House game is a thundering good game, but more often it is one-sided, and for a person who really cares for footer, such afternoons are very dull. On the Upper or Lower a good game was certain; the captain of the school always chose sides that would be fairly level. But House sides were different. Nothing depended on their results. Sometimes bloods would play, sometimes not; it was a toss up. And worst of all, Simonds was abominably slack. For a few weeks the House thought it rather funny, and the smaller members of the House secretly rejoiced; but the games-loving set waxed furious.
"Damn it all," said Mansell, "the man's here to coach us, not to sit in his study sweating up dates!"