But Harry went up the hill with a happier heart than he had had since he entered Pendragon.
That promise of adventure had been fulfilled.
CHAPTER VI
Randal was only at "The Flutes" two days, but he effected a good deal in that time. He did nothing very active—called on Mrs. le Terry and rode over the Downs once with Robin—but he managed to leave a flock of very active impressions behind him. That, as he knew well, was his strong point. He could not be with you a day without vaguely, almost indistinctly, but nevertheless quite certainly, influencing your opinions. He never said anything very definite, and, on looking back, you could never assert that he had positively taken any one point of view; but he had left, as it were, atmosphere—an assurance that this was the really right thing to do, this the proper attitude for correct breeding to adopt. It was always, with him, a case of correct breeding, and that was why the Trojans liked him so very much. "Randal," as Clare said, "knew so precisely who were sheep and who were goats, and he showed you the difference so clearly."
Whenever he came to stay some former acquaintances were dropped as being, perhaps, not quite the right people. He never said that any one was not the right person, that would be bad breeding, but you realised, of your own accord, that they were not quite right. That was why the impression was so strong—it seemed to come from yourself; your eyes were suddenly opened and you wondered that you hadn't seen it before.
He said very little of Trojan people this time; the main result of his visit was its effect on Harry's position.
Had you been a stranger you would have noticed nothing; the motto of the gentleman of good breeding is, "The end and aim of all true opinions is the concealing of them from the wrong person."
Randal was exceedingly polite to Harry, so polite that Robin and Clare knew immediately that he disapproved, but Harry was pleased. Randal spoke warmly to Robin. "You are lucky to have such a father, Bob; it's what we all want, you and I especially, a little fresh air let into our Cambridge dust and confusion; it's most refreshing to find some one who cares nothing about all those things that have seemed to us, quite erroneously probably, so valuable. You should copy him, Robin."
But Robin made no reply. He understood perfectly. There had been some qualities in his father that he had, deep down in his nature, admired. He had seemed to be without doubt a man on whom one could rely in a tight corner, and in spite of himself he had liked his father's frankness. It was unusual. There was always another meaning in everything that Robin's friends said, but there was never any doubt about Harry. He missed the fine shades, of course, and was lamentably lacking in discrimination, but you did know where you were. Robin had, almost reluctantly, admired this before the coming of Randal. But now there could be no question. When Randal was there you had displayed before you the complete art of successful allusion. Nothing was ever directly stated, but everything was hinted, and you were compelled to believe that this really was the perfection of good breeding. Robin admired Randal exceedingly. He took his dicta very seriously and accepted his criticism. The judgment of his father completed the impression that he had begun to receive. He was impossible. Randal was going by the 10.45, and he would walk to the station.