"He'll never get there in time," says Charles Desmond.
"Yes he will," Warde answers savagely.
"He has!" screamed the Rev. Septimus. "He—has!"
Pandemonium broke loose. Grey-headed men threw their hats into the air; M.P.'s danced; lovely women shrieked; every Harrovian on the ground howled. For Cæsar held the ball fast in his lean, brown hands.
The Eton captain walks slowly towards the pavilion. He had to pass Cæsar on his way, and passing him he pauses.
"That was a glorious catch," he says, with the smile of a gallant gentleman.
And as Harrow, as cordially as Eton, cheers the retiring chieftain, the Caterpillar whispers to Mrs. Verney—
"Did you see that? Did you see him stop to congratulate Cæsar?"
"Yes," says Mrs. Verney.
"I hope Scaife saw it too," the Caterpillar replies coolly. "That Eton captain is cut out of whole cloth; no shoddy there, by Jove!"