We slept a
night under the cliffs at Brighton, and I don't doubt we slept very
soundly. Boys do, anywhere. People were kind to us, and when asked, we
made no secret of the fact that we were fleeing from school.
'It had been arranged, between my companion and myself, that I should
take him into our house. At Eastbourne, which we reached sorely tired,
our insurgent spirits somewhat calmed, we had quite a lively reception.
There appeared to be, on the part of the younger members of the family, a
fear lest we should be instantly executed. Nothing so dreadful happened.
The other boy was put into communication with his friends, and I had a
long holiday. By and by, under the charge of a friend, I returned to
Guildford to make explanation and excuse. That done, I went visiting more
relations at Cheltenham--I had a lot altogether, you see!--and there I
was brought under the influence of Whately, later the renowned Archbishop
of Dublin.'
The boyish spirit kept alive in Sir George, and in that respect he had a
surpassing encounter. He spent holiday hours in the Natural History
Museum at South Kensington, near which he resided after leaving St.
James's. There was hardly an animal, or bird, that he could not instruct
you upon; but his delight was to watch the streams of happy visitors.
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