"I say, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to laugh. If you're not Hardacre, who are you?"
"Verney. I've just come."
"Verney? That's a great Harrow name. Are you any relation to the explorer?"
"Nephew," said John, blushing.
"Ah—you ought to have been here last Speecher.[2] We cheered him, I can tell you. And the song was sung: the one with his name in it."
"Yes," said John. Then he added nervously, "All the same, I don't know a soul at Harrow."
Desmond smiled. The smile assured John that his name would secure him a cordial welcome. Desmond added abruptly, "My name, Desmond, is a Harrow name. My father, my grandfather, my uncles, and three brothers were here. It does make a difference. What's your house?"
"The Manor," said John, proudly.
"Dirty Dick's!" Then, seeing consternation writ large upon John's face, he added quickly, "We call him Dirty Dick, you know; but the house is—er—one of the oldest and biggest—er—houses." He continued hurriedly: "I'm going into Damer's next term. Damer's is always chock-a-block, you know."
"Why is Rutford called 'Dirty Dick'?" John asked nervously. "He doesn't look dirty."