In order to be sure of meeting Rose at the station
he took an earlier train than he usually did, and
he waited about the platform for an hour. When
the train came in from Faversham, where he knew Rose
had to change, he ran along it excitedly. But
Rose was not there. He got a porter to tell him
when another train was due, and he waited; but again
he was disappointed; and he was cold and hungry, so
he walked, through side-streets and slums, by a short
cut to the school. He found Rose in the study,
with his feet on the chimney-piece, talking eighteen
to the dozen with half a dozen boys who were sitting
on whatever there was to sit on. He shook hands
with Philip enthusiastically, but Philip’s face
fell, for he realised that Rose had forgotten all
about their appointment.
“I say, why are you so late?” said Rose.
“I thought you were never coming.”
“You were at the station at half-past four,”
said another boy. “I saw you when I came.”
Philip blushed a little. He did not want Rose
to know that he had been such a fool as to wait for
him.
“I had to see about a friend of my people’s,”
he invented readily. “I was asked to see
her off.”
But his disappointment made him a little sulky.
He sat in silence, and when spoken to answered in
monosyllables. He was making up his mind to have
it out with Rose when they were alone. But when
the others had gone Rose at once came over and sat
on the arm of the chair in which Philip was lounging.
“I say, I’m jolly glad we’re in
the same study this term. Ripping, isn’t
it?”
He seemed so genuinely pleased to see Philip that
Philip’s annoyance vanished. They began
as if they had not been separated for five minutes
to talk eagerly of the thousand things that interested
them.
At first Philip had been too grateful for Rose’s
friendship to make any demands on him. He took
things as they came and enjoyed life. But presently
he began to resent Rose’s universal amiability;
he wanted a more exclusive attachment, and he claimed
as a right what before he had accepted as a favour.
He watched jealously Rose’s companionship with
others; and though he knew it was unreasonable could
not help sometimes saying bitter things to him.
If Rose spent an hour playing the fool in another
study, Philip would receive him when he returned to
his own with a sullen frown. He would sulk for
a day, and he suffered more because Rose either did
not notice his ill-humour or deliberately ignored it.
Not seldom Philip, knowing all the time how stupid
he was, would force a quarrel, and they would not
speak to one another for a couple of days. But
Philip could not bear to be angry with him long, and
even when convinced that he was in the right, would
apologise humbly. Then for a week they would
be as great friends as ever. But the best was
over, and Philip could see that Rose often walked
with him merely from old habit or from fear of his
anger; they had not so much to say to one another as
at first, and Rose was often bored. Philip felt
that his lameness began to irritate him.
