ol. I had
conceived myself as strutting with a measured dignity before a
background of the other boys--a background that moved and did not
change, like a wind-swept tapestry; but I was quite sure that I would
not be allowed to give myself airs at home. It seemed to me that a
youngest brother's portion of freedom would compare but poorly with
the measure of intellectual liberty that I had secured for myself at
school. My brothers were all very well in their way, but I would be
expected to take my place in the background and do what I was told. I
should miss my sense of being superior to my environment, and my
intensely emotional Sundays would no longer divide time into weeks.
The more I thought of it, the more I realised that I did not want to
go home.

On the last night of the term, when the dormitory had at length
become quiet, I considered the whole case dispassionately in my bed.
The labour of packing my play-box and writing labels for my luggage
had given me a momentary thrill, but for the rest I had moved among
my insurgent comrades with a chilled heart. I knew now that I was
too greedy of life, that I always thought of the pleasant side of
things when they were no longer within my grasp; but at the I same
time my discontent was not wholly unreasonable. I had learnt more
of myself in three months than I had in all my life before, and from
being a nervous, hysterical boy I had arrived at a complete
understanding of my emotions, which I studied with an almost adult
calmness of mind. I knew that in returning to the society of my
healthy, boyish brothers, I was going back to a kind of life for
which I was no longer fitted. I had changed, but I had the sense to
see that it was a change that would not appeal to them, and that in
consequence I would have another and harder battle to fight before I
was allowed to go my own way.

I saw further still. I saw that after a month at home I would
not want to come back to school, and that I should have to
endure another period of despondency. I saw that my whole school
life would be punctuated by these violent uprootings, that the
alternation of term-time and holidays would make it impossible
for me to change life into a comfortable habit, and that even to
the end of my school-days it would be necessary for me to
preserve my new-found courage.

As I lay thinking in the dark I was proud of the clarity of my
mind, and glad that I had at last outwitted the tears that had made
m