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It will, of course, be obvious that Ivor Marlay’s life would have been quite different if he had gone up to the University of Oxford in the ordinary way. Those who have been to Oxford, or even to Cambridge, will realise how very different Ivor Marlay’s life might have been—if indeed they can retain any interest in him—had his first youth been allowed the natural and wholesome outlets of mind and body which either of those mellow places affords in such ripe and enduring abundance to young men of widely different ambitions. The amazing reason why Ivor Marlay did not go up to the University of Oxford in the ordinary way was because he did not want to.

This Oxford matter was discussed between himself and his Aunt Moira on the very afternoon of his leaving school. It had, of course, been discussed before, but that afternoon it was discussed from a rather acute angle. Aunt Moira was seventy-two years old and was apt to discuss things from a rather acute angle.

The day on which Ivor Marlay left school had, no doubt, a good deal to do with the acuteness of the discussion, for Ivor Marlay left school suddenly. Now when a man has stayed at a public school, and at Manton in particular, until he is eighteen: when a man has become respected, responsible, and a veteran of that system which will so soon be producing him to the world as that system’s finest (as they are all the finest) product—it is surely his plain duty, in fact his only duty, to hold out to the end and to leave school without a stain on his character. He should, if possible, avoid being expelled.

Ivor Marlay’s expulsion was of the straightforward “Damn you, sir, get out!” kind. And the news of his expulsion, and the obvious reason for it, caused the nearest approach to popular feeling that Manton had ever entertained for Ivor Marlay. Manton laughed, and then Manton smiled for weeks. And when, in later days, Manton saw the name of Marlay on the cover of a book, Manton grinned in memory and bought that book, and having tried to read it wondered what the devil had happened to the man. For Manton didn’t know that he had done the thing in any spirit but that of mischief or adventure, both naturally dear to Manton’s heart. If Manton had known that he had done it in any spirit but that of mischief or adventure, it would have thought it all rather odd, and felt a little uncomfortable. The head master, who knew, thought it very odd and made Ivor a little uncomfortable.

But, even on the morning it happened, the College Prefects thought it was not happening quite usually. The College Prefects at Manton have a sitting-room in the school building, a spacious room adjacent to the masters’ sitting-room: and here they will pass a minute or two on their way to and from classes, to which they are allowed to enter a minute or two after Inferiors. (The difference between a College Prefect—Coll Pree—and a House Prefect—House Pree—is that a Coll Pree can do what he likes everywhere, and a House Pree can do what he likes in his House. Inferiors can do what they like in their studies, more or less. Fags can’t do what they like anywhere. New boys are bacilli, unclean but invisible.) The Coll Prees, at eleven o’clock that morning, gathered in force in their room for their minute-or-two. They knew that Marlay, the third head of their number, was having a little conversation with the Little Man, and they were waiting to hear about it. And the thing only began to look a little unusual when one of their number called out: “Why, he’s not coming! There he is!” And there, through the window, they saw he was! Walking swiftly down the school steps, across the wide lawn, and down more steps towards his House....

“I’ll risk it,” cried Transome, and rushed out. (Transome and Marlay had been the school rackets-pair for the last two years.) He breathlessly caught Marlay up on the “Senior Turf,” that immaculate turf where Manton whacks other Mantons at cricket. Marlay turned round at his hail.

“What happened?” asked Transome breathlessly.

“Sack,” said Marlay.

“Of course,” said Transome. “Was the Little Man cross?”