"My feeling in the matter," said Mr. Allnutt, on Brett's left, "has been, and always will be, that we coddle boys a great deal too much. In my young days at—"
"Hearts!" repeated Mr. Brett loudly.
"In my young days at Chiddleham," pursued Mr. Allnutt, quite unruffled, "sweaters had not been invented, and"—he threw out his chest proudly—"we were none of us a penny the worse. Shall I play to a heart, partner?"
"If you please," said Mr. Haydock patiently.
Mr. Brett played the hand and won the odd trick.
"The nuisance about occasional apparel, such as a greatcoat," said Mr. Haydock, gathering up the cards, "is that a boy wears his some wet morning up to school, and at the end of the hour, finding that the sun is shining and being a forgetful animal, comes down without it. Net result—a greatcoat kicking about in a passage till it is lost or appropriated. Your deal, partner."
"It is merely a matter of taking a little trouble," said Mr. Brett precisely. "Once boys have been taught to grasp the fact that rules are made to be obeyed and not ignored, the thing is simple. My House—"
"Partner, I leave it to you," said Mr. Allnutt, fortissimo.
"No trumps!" said Mr. Haydock.
"As a matter of fact, Brett," observed the Head, as the dummy was laid down,—he was a genial despot, and Mr. Brett's pedantic fussiness was a perpetual thorn in his flesh,—"the boys I saw on Saturday were yours."