LEDENHAM SCHOOL basked in the sunshine of a fine morning towards the end of April, its holiday peace rather deepened than disturbed by the sound of the groundsman’s distant tractor and the hammering, clanking and whistling of those tradesmen who invade schools whenever boys leave them.   [ . . .]
   The School House, where the Headmaster lived, housed some eighty boys, but it had been arranged with such tact and skill that the private side of the house and the large garden which sloped down to the river were comfortably secluded, and the Headmaster and his family could play tennis, sun­bathe or otherwise disport themselves without being observed by inquisitive or critical eyes.
   On this April morning the Headmaster, Hugh Fielding, and his senior assistant master, Mr. Clayton, were at work in the study, surrounded by time-tables, form lists and calendars in an atmosphere of smoky concentration.
   “Yes—well, I think that’s the lot,” said the Headmaster at last, getting up and knocking out his pipe. “You’ve been away, haven’t you? Good time?”
   Mr. Clayton was collecting papers with a practised hand. 
   “We had a fortnight,” he replied, “London mostly. What about Mrs. Fielding?”
   “Oh, doing very well I think, thank you. They kept her in longer than we expected after the operation, but she’s been home for about ten days.”
   “She’ll have to take things easily,” said Mr. Clayton.
   “Yes—she’s taking the term off. Going to Italy. Clare is home. Oh—by the way—I nearly forgot. This maths chap—Cameron. Have you fixed up somewhere for him to live?”
   Mr. Clayton paused with his hand on the door. “Yes,” he said slowly. “It wasn’t easy at the last minute, of course. He’s going to Courtney.”
   The Headmaster looked up quickly and met his senior assistant’s understanding eye.
   “H’m,” he said. “I’m afraid that will be rather—expensive for him.”
   “Yes, sir. It isn’t ideal, I know. But there doesn’t seem to be a hole anywhere for him this term except these rooms Tomlinson had with Courtney.”
   “Yes,” said the Headmaster thoughtfully. “It was a bit of a crisis Tomlinson going off suddenly like that in a bye- term. Cameron was the only possible substitute. I think he’s a good boy. He’s got a very good degree. But this is his first job and he’s a Scot born and bred—Edinburgh educated.”
   “Is he the Cameron who was in the Scottish fifteen?” asked Clayton.
   “Yes—he did very well. I’d like to staff him, but we’ll see how he fits in. It will be unfamiliar ground for him.”
  The two gentlemen parted and went thoughtfully towards their wives and lunch.