Irving did not smile, though, all the boys were grinning. He shook hands formally with Collingwood, then with Westby, then with the others, saying good-night to each; as they left him, they tiptoed to their rooms. He thought grimly that, whatever might be the sentiments entertained towards him, he would not long be living in an atmosphere of ridicule.
Irving had charge of the “big study,” as it was called, during the hour immediately after morning chapel. The boys filed in from chapel and seated themselves at their desks; the members of the Sixth Form, who were privileged to study in their rooms and therefore had no desks in the schoolroom, occupied the stalls along the wall under the big clock. Last of all the rector entered and, mounting the platform, read the “reports” for the day—that is, the names of those who had transgressed and the penalties imposed. After the reading, the Sixth Form went upstairs to their Latin class with Mr. Barclay, and the day’s work began.
On the morning following his encounters with Westby and with Collingwood, Irving as usual took charge of the Study. The boys assembled; Irving rang the bell, reducing them to quiet; Dr. Davenport came in, mounted the platform, and took up the report book—in which Irving had just finished transcribing his entries.
Dr. Davenport began reading in his clear, emphatic voice, “Out of bounds, Mason, Sterrett, Coyle, one sheet; late to study, Hart, McQuiston, Durfee, Stratton, Kane, half a sheet; tardy to breakfast—” and so on. None of the offenses were very serious; and the rector read them out rapidly. But at last he paused a moment; and then, looking up from the book, he said, with grave distinctness, “Disorderly in class and insolent, Westby, three sheets; disorderly in dormitory and insolent, Collingwood, three sheets.”
He closed the book; a stir, a thrill of interest, ran round the room. For a Sixth Former to be charged with such offenses and condemned to such punishment was rare: for Collingwood, who was in a sense the leader of the school, to be so charged and punished was unprecedented.
Collingwood, sitting directly under the clock, and facing so many curious questioning eyes, turned red; Westby, standing by the door, looked at him and smiled. At the same time, Dr. Davenport, closing the report-book, leaned towards Irving and said quietly in his ear,—
“Mr. Upton, I should like to see you about those last two reports—immediately after this study hour.”
Irving reddened; the rector’s manner was not approving.
Dr. Davenport descended from the platform and walked slowly down the aisle. As he approached, he looked straight at Westby; and Westby returned the look steadily—as if he was ashamed of nothing.
The rector passed through the doorway; the Sixth Form followed; the day’s work began.