A Reversion to Type by E.M. Delafield

To Rose Aviolet's way of thinking, Cecil's public-school days slid past as might a dream. They had, to her, much of the intangible quality of dream things. She went down to see him many times, in those years, but she never received, either from her visits or from Cecil, any impression of the place other than superficial ones.

There was something withdrawn, strangely colourless about the boy's personality, that seemed to nullify any possibility of the assimilation of an atmosphere.