said Chips to Jan, on the last Sunday of the Easter term.
"I'm blowed if I know what else he is," replied Jan, "but I should be sorry to see quite so much of him if I were Evan."
"Not you," cried Chips, "if you were Evan! You'd jolly well see all you could of anybody at the top of the tree!"
"Look here, Chips, dry up! Evan's pretty near the top himself."
"Are you going to stick him in the Eleven?"
"If he's good enough, and I hope he will be."
"Of course it's expected of you."
"Who expects it?"
"Sandham for one, and Devereux himself for another. Didn't you see how they stopped to make up to you when they overtook us just now?"
"I don't know what you mean. Evan's a friend of mine, and of course I've seen a lot of Sandham. They only asked if I was going to get any practice in the holidays."
"They took good care to let you know they were going to have some. So Evan's going to stay with Sandham's people, is he?"
"It was Sandham said that."
"And they're going to have a professor down from Lord's!"
"Well, they might be worse employed."
"They might so. I should rather like to know what they're up to at this very minute."
The scene was one of the many undulating country roads that radiated from the little town like tentacles. Chips and Jan were strolling lazily between the jewelled hedge-rows of early April; the other two had overtaken
