"Nothing has given me greater pleasure," he said, "than your friendship
for him. It has been the making of you both."
"Of me, at any rate," answered Tom. "It was the luckiest chance in the
world that sent him to Rugby and made him my chum."
"There was neither luck nor chance in that matter," said the master. "Do
you remember when the Doctor lectured you and East when you had been
getting into all sorts of scrapes?"
"Yes; well enough," said Tom. "It was the half-year before Arthur came."
"Exactly so," said the master. "He was in great distress about you both,
and after some talk, we both agreed that you in particular wanted some
object in the school beyond games and mischief. So the Doctor looked out
the best of the new boys, and separated you and East in the hope that
when you had somebody to lean on you, you'd be steadier yourself, and
get manliness and thoughtfulness. He has watched the experiment ever
since with great satisfaction."
Up to this time Tom had never fully given in to, or understood, the
Doctor. He had learnt to regard him with love and respect, and to think
him a very great and wise and good man. But as regarded his own position
in the school, he had no idea of giving anyone credit but himself.
It was a new light to Tom to find that besides teaching the Sixth, and
governing and guiding the whole school, editing classics, and writing
histories, the great headmaster had found time to watch over the career
even of him, Tom Brown, and his particular friends. However, the
Doctor's victory was complete from that moment. It had taken eight long
years to do it, but now it was done thoroughly.
The match was over.
Tom said good-bye to his tutor, and marched down to the Schoolhouse.
Next morning he was in the train and away for London, no longer a
schoolboy.
* * * * *