"You mean—?"
"Sheen went there by road. I used to take him in my motor."
"Your—! What did you say, Bruce?"
"My motor-car, sir. That's to say, my father's. We used to go together every day."
"I am glad to hear it. I am glad. Then I need say nothing to Sheen after all. I am glad.... But—er—Bruce," proceeded the headmaster after a pause.
"Yes, sir?"
"Do you—are you in the habit of driving a motor-car frequently?"
"Every day, sir. You see, I am going to take up motors when I leave school, so it's all education."
The headmaster was silent. To him the word "Education" meant Classics. There was a Modern side at Wrykyn, and an Engineering side, and also a Science side; but in his heart he recognised but one Education—the Classics. Nothing that he had heard, nothing that he had read in the papers and the monthly reviews had brought home to him the spirit of the age and the fact that Things were not as they used to be so clearly as this one remark of Jack Bruce's. For here was Bruce admitting that in his spare time he drove motors. And, stranger still, that he did it not as a wild frolic but seriously, with a view to his future career.
"The old order changeth," thought the headmaster a little sadly.