But whenever his eyes turned towards the end of the table they invariably encountered those of Bickers.
There was not much general conversation at the masters' table.

Dr Ponsford rarely encouraged it, and resented it when it arose without his initiative.
The buzz and clatter at the boys' tables, however, growing occasionally to a hubbub, amply made up for any sombreness in the meal elsewhere; and Railsford, having exhausted his inquiries, and having failed to engage one of his neighbours in conversation, resigned himself to the enjoyment of the animated scene.

He was not long in discovering the whereabouts of his youthful kinsman, whose beaming face shone out from the midst of a bevy of particular friends, while ever and again above the turmoil, like a banner in the breeze, waved the tawny mane of Sir Digby Oakshott.
It amused Railsford to watch the group, and when now and then they looked his way, to speculate on what was the subject of their conversation.

Perhaps Arthur had been telling them of the new master's athletic achievements at Cambridge, and how he had rowed his boat to the head of the river; or possibly he had been describing to them some of the big football-matches which he, Mark, had taken his young friend to see during the holidays; or maybe they were laying down some patriotic plan for the future good of Railsford's house.

His heart warmed to the boys as he watched them.