And yet Gilks’s frame of mind was, so to speak, a good deal more black than blue. As he paced up and down the playground, rather like a wolf in a cage waiting for dinner, he was far more exercised to devise some way of making his faithless friend smart for his cruelty than to win back his affection.
When two good fellows fall out it is bad enough, but when two bad fellows fall out it may be even worse, for whereas in the former case one of the two is probably in the right, in the latter both are pretty certain to be in the wrong.
No one knew exactly what the quarrel had been about, or what, if any, were its merits, or whether it was a breaking off of all friendship or merely a passing breeze. Whatever it was, it was enough to give Gilks the “toothache” on this particular afternoon and keep him at Willoughby.
The hour that elapsed after call-over dragged heavily for every one. The three heads of houses, after their brief consultation, went their several ways—at least Bloomfield went his, while Riddell and Fairbairn solaced themselves in one another’s society.
“What is the use of keeping up this farce?” exclaimed Riddell, when they were back in his study. “Isn’t it a farce?”
“Not a bit of it. I don’t think much of this affair at all. Of course there’ll be a row, but it seems to me a case of temporary lunacy that we can’t be responsible for.”
“But the doctor holds me responsible.”
“You may be sure he won’t be down on you for this.”
“And then, isn’t it just a proof to the whole school that I’ve no more authority than the smallest junior? Look at that miserable notice there on the door. Who has cared a rap about it?”
“My dear fellow, you’re always flying off to despair whenever you get the chance. The same thing might have happened to any captain.”