him in 1880 one must have known him as he had been thirty years
before.

In 1850 two of the best known of the young men in society were
Arthur Grey and Philip Vaughan. They were, and had been ever since
their schooldays at Harrow, inseparable friends. The people to
whom friendship is a sealed and hopeless mystery were puzzled by
the alliance. "What have those two fellows in common?" was the
constant question, "and yet you never see them apart." They shared
lodgings in Mount Street, frequented the same clubs, and went,
night after night, to the same diners and balls. They belonged,
in short, to the same set: "went everywhere," as the phrase is,
and both were extremely popular; but their pursuits and careers
were different. Grey was essentially a sportsman and an athlete. He
was one of those men to whom all bodily exercises come naturally,
and who attain perfection in them with no apparent effort. From
his earliest days he had set his heart on being a soldier, and by
1850 had obtained a commission in the Guards. Vaughan had neither
gifts nor inclinations in the way of sport or games. At Harrow he
lived the life of the intellect and the spirit, and was unpopular
accordingly. He was constantly to be found "mooning," as his
schoolfellows said, in the green lanes and meadow-paths which lie
between Harrow and Uxbridge, or gazing, as Byron had loved to gaze,
at the sunset from the Churchyard Terrace. It was even whispered
that he wrote poetry.

Arthur Grey, with his good looks, his frank bearing, and his facile
supremacy on the cricket-ground and in the racquet-court, was a
popular hero; and of all his schoolfellows none paid him a more
whole-hearted worship than the totally dissimilar Philip Vaughan.