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said 'The countess is a real old cow,' and was reassured. He also surreptitiously took

a look at the Visiting Parents' Book in the Bursar's office and found no evidence that La

Comtesse had ever visited the school.
    But to be on the safe side, he used a geography lesson to ask all those boys whose mothers

were coming to Sports Day to put up their hands. Wanderby didn't. Having dealt with that problem,

Slymne concentrated on the next one; how to phrase his letter to Glodstone. In the end he decided

on the direct approach. It would appeal to Glodstone's gallantry more effectively than anything

too subtle. On the other hand; there had to be more definite instructions as well. Slymne penned

the letter, tracing La Comtesse's handwriting again and again for practice, and then on a weekend

visit to London, spent the night in a hotel room making a number of direct-dialled calls to

France. By the time he returned to Groxbourne, he was ready to provide the instructions. Only one

uncertainty remained. Glodstone might have made arrangements for his summer holidays already. In

which case, the timing of the letter would be vital. And Wanderby's own movements in the holidays

might prove awkward too. Again Slymne made use of a geography lesson to find out where the boy

was spending the summer.
    'I'm going to Washington to stay with my father and his girl friend,' Wanderby announced

brashly. Mr Slymne was delighted and used the statement in the Common Room that evening to good

advantage.
    'I must say we have some pretty peculiar parents,' he said loudly, 'I was discussing time

zones with 2B this morning and that American boy, Wanderbury, suddenly said his father's got a

mistress in Washington.'
    Glodstone stopped sucking his pipe. 'Can't you even remember the names of the boys you teach?'

he asked angrily. 'It's Wanderby. And what's all this about his father having a mistress?'
    Slymne appeared to notice Glodstone for the first time. 'In your house, isn't he? Typical

product of a broken home. Anyway, I'm merely repeating what he said.'
    'Do you make a habit of poking your nose into the boy's family affairs in your lessons?'
    'Certainly not. As I said, I was discussing time zones and jet-lag and Wandleby '
    'Wanderby, for God's sake,' snapped Glodstone.
    ' volunteered the information that he was going to Washington at the end of term and that his

father '
    'All right, we heard you the first time,' said Glodstone and finished his coffee hurriedly and

left the room. Later that evening as he crossed the quad, Slymne was pleased to notice Glodstone

sitting at his desk by the window with a cigar box beside him. The crack about the broken home

and Wanderby's father having a mistress would enhance Glodstone's romantic image of La Comtesse.

That night, Slymne completed the task of writing out her instructions and locked the letter away

in his filing cabinet.
    It was to remain there for another five weeks. The summer term dragged on. Sports Day came and

went, cricket matches were won or lost and Glodstone's melancholy grew darker with the fine

weather and the liveliness of youth around him. He took to polishing the Bentley more frequently

and it was there in the old coach-house one evening that he asked Peregrine what he was going to

do when he left.
    'Father's got me down for the Army. But now I've got O-levels, he's talking about my going

into a bank in the City.'
    'Not your sort of life I would have thought. Dashed dull.'
    'Well, it's on account of my maths,' said Peregrine. 'That and Mother. She's all against my

going into the Army. Anyway, I've got a month free first because I'm going on the Major's course

in Wales. It's jolly good fun doing those night marches and sleeping out in the open.'
    Glodstone sighed at the remembrance of his youth and came to sudden decision. 'Damn the Head,'

he muttered, 'let's take the old girl out for a spin. After all, it is your last term and you've