'Unfortunate, most unfortunate. I understood from Mr Levy that you did. I have arranged for you to take Beste‑Chetwynde in organ lessons twice a week. Well, you must do the best you can. There goes the bell for dinner. I won't detain you. Oh, one other thing. Not a word to the boys, please, about the reasons for your leaving Oxford! We schoolmasters must temper discretion with deceit. There, I fancy I have said something for you to think about. Good night.
'Tootle‑oo, said the elder Miss Fagan.
CHAPTER III Captain Grimes
Paul had very little difficulty in finding the dining‑hall. He was guided there by the smell of cooking and the sound of voices. It was a large, panelled room, far from disagreeable, with fifty or sixty boys of ages ranging from ten to eighteen settled along four long tables. The smaller ones wore Eton suits, the elder ones dinner-jackets.
He was led to a place at the head of one of the tables. The boys on either side of him stood up very politely until he sat down. One of them was the boy who had whistled at Captain Grimes. Paul thought he rather liked him.
'I'm called Beste‑Chetwynde, he said.
'I've got to teach you the organ, I believe.
'Yes, it's great fun: we play in the village church. Do you play terribly well?
Paul felt this was not a moment for candour, and so, 'tempering discretion with deceit', he said, 'Yes, remarkably well.
'I say, do you really, or are you rotting?