Smythe looked up.
“Well, I can tell you now,” said he, “that the circumstances which have arisen make it very desirable that you should go back to Wilton as speedily as you came.”
“You mean to say, then, that there isn’t going to be any football at all?”
“There will be house games only—under the control of the games master—a matter of arrangement between the captains of the houses. There will be no football which will require the services of a school captain—no school matches. And I have resigned.” He paused. “I commend that example to you,” he observed.
Next moment he was deep in his book again.
Roe looked miserably round the study.
“Why did he fetch me from Wilton then?”
“Goodness only knows! It may be that he wanted you to see the country.”
“But,” said Roe, “this is all rot. I’ve got definite instructions from my father. He told me distinctly that I——”
“You go back to him,” said Smythe, “and make sure that you heard him correctly. Tell him what you’ve found out. And if I were you I should ask him whether you can’t go back.” He moved across the room and opened the door. “This is the way out,” said he.