John Acton, a tall, wiry fellow, who looked as though his whole body was as hard and tough as whip-cord, was standing leaning on the end of the mantelpiece talking to another of the seniors, who sat sprawling in a folding-chair on the other side of the fire; while seated at the table, turning over the leaves of what appeared to be a big manuscript book, was no less a personage than Allingford, the school captain.
"I don't understand a bit what's coming to 'Thirsty,'" the football leader was saying.

"I was rather chummy with him when we were in the Fifth, and he was all right then, but now he seems to be running to seed as fast as he can; and I believe it's a great deal that fellow Fletcher .-- Hullo, youngster! what d'you want ?" "I was told you wanted to see me," said Diggory nervously.
"Oh yes.

You were at The Birches, that school near Chatford, weren't you?
Well, I want to hear about that love affair my young brother had with the old chap's daughter .-- It was an awful joke," added the speaker, addressing his companions.

"He was about fourteen, and she's a grown-up woman; and he was awfully gone, I can tell you .-- How did he pop the question ?" "He wrote," answered Diggory.

"We tossed up whether he should do that or speak." There was a burst of laughter.
"Did you see the letter ?" "Yes." "What did he say ?" "I can't tell you." "Why not?
don't you remember ?" "Yes; but he only showed me the letter on condition I wouldn't ever tell any one what was in it." "Oh, that's all rot! you can tell me; I'm his brother.