He paused again, and looked about him. “There is no reason for further delay. The obvious candidate for the position is, of course, Anthony Deering. He was, as you all know, not only the president of the Dealonian Society, which according to tradition registers the boys’ choice of their leader, but he was unanimously nominated to me by the retiring prefects of last year’s Sixth Form. I may say at once, that unless there is strong reason to the contrary, that I am disposed to confirm that nomination this evening. He is a boy who has been keenly interested in most of the school activities and he has shown ability and capacity for leadership in most of them. Personally, as we all feel I imagine, he is a charming lad, high bred, coming of one of the best old southern families; and, as on several occasions I have had the opportunity for judging, he has always displayed a sense of honor and an attitude of unselfishness and kindness that is as rare as it is delightful. I should be glad, however, to hear your comments on the nomination, or to have the merits of any other boy discussed whom you may feel is entitled to consideration.”
After a moment’s silence, Stenton addressed the masters. “Doctor Forester,” he said, “I should like to say that I thoroughly agree with all that you say about Deering. I have observed him at close quarters on the athletic field, and I never knew a squarer, more plucky lad. As you know, other things being equal, I believe that an athlete should have preference for the Head Prefectship. Two years ago I doubted if Deering would fulfill his athletic promise, but his exploit in the Boxford game of last year, thoroughly re-established his athletic reputation. I think he is, simply because of his genial character and general popularity, better adapted to the position than Ned Clavering, the football captain, who would be my next choice. He too is a fine chap, and though he lacks Deering’s attractiveness, he is not so quick and impulsive.”
“His impulses,” asked the Head, “are usually generous, are they not?”
“Yes, I think they are,” Stenton replied. “He is decidedly my choice.”
“And you, Mr. Morris?”
“Why, yes, sir; I fancy my opinion of Deering is well known. He has faults. He is impulsive, as Stenton says; he is quick and he has a sharp temper. But granting that, I am frank to say that he is a boy whom it has been a privilege as well as a pleasure to know. I think not merely that we would make no mistake in selecting him for Head Prefect, but that we could not possibly find another boy who would do so well.”
“That is very much my impression,” said the Doctor. “Unless—yes, Mr. Roylston.”
“I am sorry to say,” interrupted Mr. Roylston, from his seat on the window-bench, in low distinct tones in which there was discernible but a trace of feeling, “I am sorry to say there is an ‘unless.’ I regret very much to utter a discordant note to the chorus of praise that has been sounding for the boy whose name is under our consideration, but a sense of duty as well as deep personal feeling impels me to say that I should regard it as a calamity of injustice if he should receive this appointment.”
The men turned with amazement and curiosity in the direction of the Latin master. “My experience of him,” that gentleman continued, “though it has scarcely been as intimate as that of Mr. Stenton or Mr. Morris,—both of whom, I understand, believe in as well as practice, cultivating intimacies with boys,—but it has been as extended. And never, I desire to say, in my long experience have I had as much trouble or been subjected to such impertinence and insult as by Deering and his satellites.”
Doctor Forester interrupted his assistant master a little impatiently. “I should be obliged if you will specify some of his delinquencies, Mr. Roylston.”