Prosperity went harder with him than adversity.

As long as he had his hill to climb, his foe to vanquish, his peril to brave, Dick had the makings of a hero.

But when fortune smoothed his path, when the foe lay at his feet, when the peril had passed behind, then Dick's troubles began.

Popularity turned his head, and laid him open to dangers twice as bad as those he had cleared.

The more fellows cheered him, the more he craved their cheers; the more he craved their cheers, the more willing a slave he became.
"It strikes me, youngster," said Cresswell one day, when the term had turned the corner, and the Grandcourt match was beginning to loom very near in the future, "it strikes me you're not doing much good up here.
You're always fooling about with those precious juniors of yours, instead of sticking to cricket and tennis and your books.