"You see," he said, "the dear old governor outshines everybody. Hugo
and the others felt that under him they would be in eclipse, for ever
and ever--eh?"

"I see," said John, gravely. "Yes, there's something in that. He wants
you, Caesar."

"Dear old governor!" the other replied. "Yes--he's keen on that. But I
hope to make my own little mark. I'd like to have my name on a brass
tablet in Harrow Chapel; that would be something." His eyes began to
glow and sparkle.

Next day, at dinner, Rodney's name cropped up.

"Rodney paved the way for Nelson," Mr. Desmond observed. "I look upon
him as one of our greatest Harrovians. We ought to have a building to
Rodney's memory. I put him before Peel or Byron."

"Oh, I say, father----" Hot protest from Caesar.

"Act before word, Harry; practice before precept. Rodney was a man of
action. I should like to have been Rodney."

"I should like to have been Sheridan," said Caesar. "I often look at his
name on the third panel of the Fourth Form Room."

He glanced at his father, who smiled, knowing that a delicate compliment
was intended, for enthusiastic admirers had spoken of Charles Desmond as
the Richard Brinsley Sheridan of the modern House of Commons. The father
said curtly--

"A sky-rocket, my dear Harry." Then he turned to John. "And of all our
famous Harrovians whom would you like to take as a pattern, young John?"

John hesitated. Two or three of the guests present were celebrities.
Amongst them was England's greatest critic sitting beside an ambassador.
There happened to be a lull in the talk. All looked curiously at John.

"I'd like to be another Lord Shaftesbury," he said slowly.

"Good! Capital!" Mr. Desmond nodded his head. "I knew him well." He
poured out anecdote after anecdote illustrating the character and
temperament of the statesman-philanthropist: his self-sacrifice, his
devotion to an ideal, his curious exclusiveness, his refinement, his
faith in an aristocracy never diminished by the indefatigable zeal
wherein he laboured to better the condition of the poor. "If every rich
man were animated by Shaftesbury's spirit," said Mr. Desmond, in
conclusion, "extreme poverty would be wiped out of England, and yet we
should retain all that makes life charming and profitable. He was no
leveller, save of foul rookeries. First and last he believed in order,
particularly his own--a true nobleman. And the inspiration of his great
career came to him on the Hill."

"Ind