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"The four monitors, between you and me, won't, I fear, help us much. "Yes, I know what Ken is now Hespemor en phthimenoir he's our chief danger a doubtful general in the camp. Hullo, Flip, you here?" said he, as Henderson came up and joined them. "Myself, O Evides; who's the doubtful general in the camp? not I, I hope." "You, Flip? no; but Kenrick. We're talking about the monitors."
"That is Fuzby," said Kenrick laconically, pointing to a straggling village from which a few lights were beginning to glimmer; "and I wish it were buried twenty thousand fathoms under the sea." Ungracious as the speech may seem, it cannot be wondered at. A single muddy road runs through Fuzby. Except along this road muddy and rutty in winter, dusty and rutty in summer no walk is to be had.
Loud applause greeted the end of Kenrick's speech, and the little bit at the end about separating an act from its consequences told wonderfully among the boys. They raised an almost unanimous cry of "Well done, Ken", "Quite right", "Harpour shan't be caned." Henderson had been watching Kenrick with an expression of intense anger and disdain.
Almost the only boy of whom he saw much now was Wilton, and but for him, I do believe, that in those days he would have changed his whole tone of thought and mode of life. But he had a strange liking for this worthless boy, who kept alive in him his jealousy of Walter, his opposition to the other monitors, his partisanship, his recklessness, and his pride. Sometimes Kenrick felt this.
But I have reason to know that something more must have passed than what you admit yourself to have said. I am astonished that you should have treated me so unworthily. I would not have done so to you. I will try to forget this unpleasant business; but it is only in a sense that I can sign myself again. "Your affectionate friend. H. Kenrick." Walter had not expected this cold, ungracious reply.
He saw Tracy saunter in very neat, but with a languid air of disapprobation, blushing withal as he entered; Eden, whose large eyes looked bewildered until he caught sight of Walter and sat down beside him; Kenrick, beaming as ever, who nodded to him as he passed by; Henderson, who, notwithstanding the time and place, found opportunity to whisper to him a hope that he had washed his desirable person in clear water; Plumber looking as if his credulity had been gorged beyond endurance; Daubeny, with eyes immovably fixed in the determination to know his lessons that day; and lastly, Harpour, who had just time to scuffle in hot, breathless, and exceedingly untidy, as the chaplain began the opening sentence.
They stood silent till Power said, in ejaculations of intense emphasis, "Thank God!" and then pointing downwards with a shudder, "Oh, Walter!" and then once again, "Thank God!" which Walter and Kenrick echoed; and then they passed on without another word. But those two words, so uttered, were enough.
In this house were Kenrick and Mackworth Kenrick, as monitor, was in some measure responsible for the character of the house, and he had Charlie as one of his fags. At this time, as I have already observed with sorrow, Kenrick's influence was not only useless for good, but was even positively bad.
To know Dr Lane was to love and to respect him; and this poor fatherless boy did feel very great pain to have incurred his anger. "I am unwilling, Kenrick," continued the Doctor, "to dismiss you without adding one word of kindness.
Charlie's sole friend and helper in the house then was, not Kenrick, but Bliss. Poor Bliss quite belied his name, for his school work, in which he never could by any effort succeed, kept him in a state of lugubrious disappointment. Bliss lived a dim kind of life, seeing all sorts of young boys get above him and beat him in the race, and vaguely groping in thick mental darkness.
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