learly his mode of life: the motor had to go sixty miles an hour; he might be one of those who bathed in the Serpentine in mid-winter; he would clearly dance all night, and ride all day, and go on till he dropped in the pursuit of what he cared for. Mr. Taynton, looking at him as he stood smiling there, in his splendid health and vigour felt all this. He felt, too, that if Morris intended to be married to-morrow morning, matrimony would probably take place.But Morris's pause, after he pushed his chair back and stood up, was only momentary."Good God, yes; I'm in love," he said. "And she probably thinks me a stupid barbarian, who likes only to drive golfballs and motorcars. She--oh, it's hopeless. She would have let me come over to see them to-morrow otherwise."He paused again."And now I've given the whole show away," he said.Mr. Taynton made a comfortable sort of noise. It was compounded of laughter, sympathy, and comprehension."You gave it away long ago, my dear...Edward Frederic "E. F." Benson (24 July 1867 - 29 February 1940) was an English novelist, biographer, memoirist, archaeologist and short story writer.Early lifeE. F. Benson was born at Wellington College in Berkshire, the fifth child of the headmaster, Edward White Benson (later Chancellor of Lincoln Cathedral, Bishop of Truro and Archbishop of Canterbury), and his wife born Mary Sidgwick ("Minnie").E. F. Benson was the younger brother of Arthur Christopher Benson, who wrote the words to "Land of Hope and Glory," Robert Hugh Benson, author of several novels and Roman Catholic apologetic works, and Margaret Benson (Maggie), an author and amateur Egyptologist. Two other siblings died young. Benson's parents had six children and no grandchildren.Benson was educated at Temple Grove School, then at Marlborough College, where he wrote some of his earliest works and upon which he based his novel David Blaize. He continued his education at King's College, Cambridge. At Cambridge, he was a member of the Pitt Club, and later in life he became an honorary fellow of Magdalene College.At Cambridge he fell in love with Vincent Yorke. Benson wrote in his diary: "I feel perfectly mad about him just now...Ah, if only he knew, and yet I think he does."