"I wish some one would remove the mess-dictionary," interrupted the other. "The child will hurt himself with those long words some day."
"Bad for you, if they did," grinned a third. "D'ye know he actually asked me last mail-day if there were two f's in affection. Whoo hoop!" Closely pursued by the avenger he leapt the low balustrade, and the garden resounded to much boyish laughter, as one by one the youngsters joined the chase.
"Remarkably high spirits," yawned John Raby, "but a trifle reminiscent of a young gentleman's academy. They jar on the dolce far niente of the surroundings."
"We were glad enough of the spirits a few months ago," replied Philip significantly. "The dolce far niente of semi-starvation requires some stimulant."
"That was very nearly a fiasco, sending you over the Pass so late. Lucky for you the Politicals put the drag on the Military in time."
"Lucky, you mean, that poor Dick Smith managed to send that telegram. I've often wondered how he did it. The story would be worth hearing; he was one in a thousand."
"You always had a leaning towards that red-headed boy; now I thought him most offensive. He--"
"De mortuis," quoted the Major with a frown.
"Those are the ethics of eternity combined with a sneaking belief in ghosts. But I mean nothing personal. He was simply a disconcerting sport, as the biologists say, from the neutral-tinted Eurasian, and I distrust a man who doesn't look his parentage; he is generally a fraud or a monstrosity."
"That theory of yours is rather hard on development, isn't it?" said Philip with a smile.