The Headmaster's Dilemma by Louis Auchincloss

gravelly-voiced distributor of millions to talk about himself. He at once proceeded to complain about the troubles of his day. The director of his foundation had just received a diagnosis of lung cancer and would have to retire.
    "It's hard on him, of course," he conceded, "but it's also hard on me."
    "Because you now have to find a successor for him?" she asked. "But that shouldn't be too difficult. Anyone you ask will jump at the chance. It's a great position."
    "Yes, but here's the problem, Mrs. Sayre. If you're looking for the head of a university or a hospital or a museum, you retain a headhunter who will provide you with a list of eligible professors, doctors, or curators. But a foundation head doesn't have to belong to any special category. The whole world, so to speak, can apply, and you're faced with a list as long as the telephone directory."
    "You couldn't limit it to officers in other foundations?"
    "And rule out some great scientist or statesman or industrialist? Would that be doing our duty to the public? Giving away money requires wisdom and caution and worldly common sense, which are qualities to be found in all fields of leadership."
    "Even in private boarding schools?" she ventured to ask with a smile, as if in jest.
    "Like Averhill? Why not? By the way, I hear great things about your husband. They say that school is leading all the others in New England now in student applications."
    "I'm glad people speak well of him. He's really working his tail off. I worry about his killing himself." Here she appeared to be continuing her little joke. "I wish your foundation would rescue him. Mightn't he do for you?"
    "Oh, he'd qualify all right." The look he now gave her was a chairman's look. "But he wouldn't think of leaving Averhill, would he? He's pretty well stuck up there, isn't he?"
    "Oh, he might be detached," she replied in a tone more matter of fact. "He was hired to bring the school up to date, and he's pretty well done that. A new challenge might be just the thing he needs."
    "I'll make a note of that. I really will."
    He had to talk now to the aggressive old lady on his other side whose imperious poke reminded him that the table was turning.
    She decided to make no mention of this exchange when she returned to school. She knew that a good deal of work would have to be done on Michael before he could be induced to leave Averhill, and she would need a plan and the time to form one. But she had followed tensely the discussion between Michael and Donald Spencer about the proposed sports plaza and had seen in it the seed of a major conflict between the headmaster and the board of trustees. If Michael should try to temper the project, which seemed only too likely, and Spencer should dig in his heels, which seemed equally probable, and the board should support Spencer, which they were only too apt to do where large sums were promised, might not Michael, strongly backed by a loving spouse, pull out altogether? And move on to a glorious career in a city where he and Ione could both do the work they loved? Who said that one couldn't have one's cake
and
eat it?
    Donald Spencer, when he next came up to the school, was unpleasantly surprised to discover that the headmaster had, in only a few days' time, made a thorough study of his architect's rough draft for the proposed sports plaza and already sketched out with his own hand some drastic alterations. The gymnasium was reduced in size by a good half and located off-campus on the edge of a declivity in such a way that the top two stories visible from the main school oblong were on a level with the other buildings, while its bulk, with the great hall and swimming tank, discreetly descended the slope in back without dwarfing other structures. The indoor hockey rink was abandoned but the pond near the school that was now used for the sport when iced over was provided with heated changing rooms. The nine-hole golf course was abandoned, as were the oval seats around the