him in his study. Laying aside his handy model steam-engine, he went
off to the housemaster's study.

"You were late for breakfast to-day," said Mr. Seymour, in the horrid,
abrupt way housemasters have.

"Why, yes, sir," said Chapple, pleasantly.

"And the day before."

"Yes, sir."

"And the day before that."

Chapple did not deny it. He stood on one foot and smiled a
propitiating smile. So far Mr. Seymour was entitled to demand a cigar
or cocoanut every time.

The housemaster walked to the window, looked out, returned to the
mantelpiece, and shifted the position of a china vase two and a
quarter inches to the left. Chapple, by way of spirited repartee,
stood on the other leg and curled the disengaged foot round his ankle.
The conversation was getting quite intellectual.

"You will write out----"

"Sir, please, sir----" interrupted Chapple in an "I-represent-the
defendant-m'lud" tone of voice.

"Well?"