Grover, delighted as he was at the success of his friend's application, took care to keep the rocks ahead well above the surface in all his letters and conversations.

Railsford laughed him pleasantly to scorn.
Grover's was not the only attempt made to intimidate our hero.

A week or so before he entered upon his duties, a nervous-looking man called to see him.

It was Mr Moss, the late master.
"I hear you have been appointed to my house," he said, by way of explanation, "and I thought it would be only friendly to call and tell you the sort of thing you are to expect when you go there." "Thanks, very much," said Railsford, with a smile of the corner of his mouth.
"You may be made of cast iron, or be possessed of the patience of a Job," began this cheery adviser.

"If so, you're all right.