ol.

The thing he had dreaded, that had hung over him, threatening him for
years before it happened, had happened. Nothing could have prevented it;
their names had been down for Cheltenham long ago; first his, then
Nicky's. Cheltenham, because Bartie and Vera lived there, and because it
had a college for girls, and Dorothy, who wanted to go to Roedean, had
been sent to Cheltenham, because of Bartie and Vera and for no other
reason. First Dorothy; then, he, Michael; then, the next term, Nicky.
And Nicky had been sent (a whole year before his time) because of
Michael, in the hope that Michael would settle down better if he had his
brother with him. It didn't seem reasonable.

Not that either Dorothy or Nicky minded when they got there. All that
Nicky minded was not being at Hampstead. Being at Cheltenham he did not
mind at all. He rather liked it, since Major Cameron had come to stay
just outside it--on purpose to annoy Bartie--and took them out riding.
Even Michael did not mind Cheltenham more than any other place his
people might have chosen. He was not unreasonable. All he asked was to
be let alone, and to have room to breathe and get ahead in. As it was,
he had either to go with the school mass, or waste energy in resisting
its poisonous impact.

He had chosen resistance.

TUDOR HOUSE.
CHELTENHAM,
_Sunday_.

DEAREST MOTHER:

I've put Sunday on this letter, though it's really Friday, because I'm
supposed to be writing it on Sunday when the other fellows are writing.
That's the beastly thing about this place, you're expected to do
everything when the other fellows are doing it, whether you want to or
not, as if the very fact that they're doing it too didn't make you
hate it.

I'm writing now because I simply must. If I waited till Sunday I
mightn't want to, and anyhow I shouldn't remember a single thing I meant
to say. Even now Johnson minor's digging his skinny elbows into one side
of me, and Hartley major's biting the feathers off his pen and spitting
them out again on the other. But they're only supposed to be doing Latin
verse, so it doesn't matter so much. What I mean is it's as if their
beastly minds kept on leaking into yours till you're all mixed up with
them. That's why I asked Daddy to take me away next term. You see--it's
more serious than he thinks--it is, really. You've no idea what it's
like. You've got to swot every blessed thing the other fellows swot
even if yo