Barty took his defeat pretty easily—he put it all down to his nose bleeding—and seemed so pleased at my success, and my dear mother's delight in it, that he was soon quite consoled; he was always like that.
To M. Mérovée, Barty's failure was as great a disappointment as it was a painful surprise.
"Try again Josselin! Don't leave here till you have passed. If you are content to fail in this, at the very
"'MAURICE AU PIQUET!'"
outset of your career, you will never succeed in anything through life! Stay with us as my guest till you can go up again, and again if necessary. Do, my dear child—it will make me so happy! I shall feel it as a proof that you reciprocate in some degree the warm friendship I have always borne you—in common with everybody in the school! Je t'en prie, mon garçon!"
Then he went to the Rohans and tried to persuade them. But Lord Archibald didn't care much about Bachots, nor his wife either. They were going back to live in England, besides; and Barty was going into the Guards.
I left school also—with a mixture of hope and elation, and yet the most poignant regret.