‘This,’ said Freddy wearily, as he threw a cream coloured envelope upon the table, ‘is too much of a good thing; here’s an official announcement from Aunt Julia that she and her companion, a cheery young thing of sixty-five, are coming up for a fortnight to enjoy the ‘boating-races;’ she casually remarks that the girls have only one day vacant and that a Sunday, so that it will not be worth while their putting in an appearance.’ ‘Her postscript,’ he added, with a look of the deepest disgust, ‘runs as follows: “Dear Ophelia”—that’s the old girl’s satellite—“is very anxious to see something of real Oxford life, and hopes that you will arrange a visit with some nice young fellows to the Bodleian or the Martyrs’ Memorial.”’

‘Pouff,’ blew the Pilot expressively, ‘what are our relations coming to; but, if it isn’t rude, who is Aunt Julia?’

‘Julia Claudia Letitia Fanny, Dowager Lady Blitherington,’ recited Freddy, ‘her husband was Sir Hophni Jenkins of the Weekly Eraser, who bought a peerage by settling a Minister’s cab fares about forty years ago. But seriously, we must get the girls.’

‘Oh yes, we must get the girls,’ echoed Squiff. ‘They’re awful sportswomen, I met them last year at the Addison Ball.’

‘Oh yes, I remember them too,’ said Reggie. ‘They nearly ran me off my feet, and I finally settled with Maisie in the Senior Tutor’s rooms, where we sat out a considerable portion of the programme, and incidentally consumed all the strawberries left on the Reverend gentleman’s table.’

‘I fancy,’ said Freddy reflectively, ‘that they go rather too fast for Aunt Julia, who, despite the decidedly risquÉ tone of the Weekly Eraser, is not as enlightened as she should be. I must write to Muriel myself, I expect they’ve only got some wretched country visit which they can easily put off. We couldn’t stand Aunt Julia unadulterated.’

‘Where did Miss Ophelia spring from?’ put in the Pilot, whose curiosity is insatiable.

‘Oh, she was one of the bathing attendants at Margate when Aunt Julia went down there in sixty-five, and she took such a fancy to her that she’s kept her ever since.’

‘We’d better arrange a joint picnic for all our relatives one day,’ remarked Reggie, who often has these brilliant inspirations; ‘it will save a lot of trouble, and they’ll all be pleased.’

‘They won’t be pleased with Ophelia,’ remarked Freddy unpleasantly, ‘but have it your own way,’ and he retired to write letters.

This conversation took place on the Sunday before Eights, after breakfast, and having settled nothing as usual, we went out on the river. On Tuesday afternoon at 6 o’clock Freddy, supported by Squiff and myself, fetched up at the station to meet Aunt Julia. The train had stopped fully two minutes before we saw a phenomenally unattractive female descend from a first-class carriage carrying several handbags and a diseased-looking spaniel.

‘That’s the Bugg,’ remarked Freddy dismally, as he slowly advanced to the carriage from which Miss Bugg and a porter were heaving out an inanimate mass clad in furs, lace and silk. Freddy placed his arms gingerly around this relic and kissed it twice somewhere near the top. By the time Squiff and I reached them, the object had begun to speak. ‘My dear Frederick,’ it was saying in feeble tones, ‘such a terrible journey; poor Jacob was so ill, and Ophelia actually forgot the curative capsules.’

‘The O’Rossa, Mr. Cochrane, Lady Blitherington,’ murmured Freddy, but her Ladyship was busily engaged in administering to Jacob a capsule which the Bugg had just discovered.

‘The O’Rossa, Mr. Cochrane, Miss Bugg,’ screamed Freddy, glaring at Ophelia.

‘I’m so felicitous to meet you,’ replied the lady with a contortion intended for a friendly smile.

‘I’m glad to see you’ve brought good weather with you,’ remarked Squiff to Aunt Julia, ‘at one time it looked rather like a bad week.’

The Dowager was just about to reply when the arrival of her dutiful nephew, vicariously laden with luggage, put an end to conversation, and we helped the ladies into the Granville bus, accompanied by Freddy.

On our way back we spent a pleasant half-hour at the King’s Restaurant, and so when we reached the Squifferies Freddy was already there.

He greeted us with unnecessary noise and stuffed a telegram into my hand, which said: ‘Righto Thursday for a week be good Maisie,’ and Squiff, having read the message over my shoulder, whistled softly ‘there’s a good time coming, boys,’ which Freddy interrupted by saying to both of us,

‘If you can stand any more of the menagerie to-night come to dinner with us at eight.’

We accepted, and arrived fairly punctually, to find Ophelia and Jacob in possession of the private sitting-room.

Freddy of course was late.

‘O, Mr. O’Rossa,’ she began as Squiff advanced towards her, ‘do tell me all about your daily provocations at Oxford.’

‘That’s rather a large order, Miss Bugg,’ said Squiff smilingly, ‘where shall I begin?’

‘At the very beginning, please,’ she said, ‘say at your early morning Church.’

‘Well, Miss Bugg,’ said Squiff, ‘you give me an account of how you think we spend our day, and I’ll correct you if you go wrong.’

‘Very well. I’ve read such a lot about Oxford you know, I always took such an interest in the dear Collegiates. I hear you rise at seven thirty, and then all those boys who have lodgings within the walls go to Church at eight, and afterwards a Parthian breakfast with your friends; now tell me,’ she continued, ‘I am so interested in all these things, do you perform your abductions at home or are there public baths? And then,’ she went on, giving us no time to think what she meant, ‘from 9 to 1 you attend the Professors, and the afternoon is spent in some form of aesthetics, or anthropological research. At seven you have dinner, and they tell me that the food is plentiful but bad;’ ‘hear! hear!’ I remarked; she beamed and continued, ‘I’ve looked in Verdant Green and the Student’s guide to Oxford, but I can’t get a clear idea of how you spend your evenings.’

‘Chiefly in study,’ began Squiff solemnly, when he was interrupted by a roar from Freddy, whose face appeared round the door.

‘What ho, Ophelia!’ he cried, as he came into the room; ‘On the go again? Don’t you believe all they tell you.’

‘On the contrary,’ I interrupted, as Ophelia began a protest. ‘Miss Bugg was instructing us.’

‘Your remark is somewhat exiguous, Mr. Cocklin,’ began the Bugg, when the inner door opened gently and Lady Blitherington sailed in.

‘Good evening, Frederick,’ she said, and bowed to us, ‘I am glad you’re more punctual than usual; poor dear Hophni used to say that if your Uncle William had only been more punctual he might have risen to be a credit to the family.’

‘Rather an unlikely contingency,’ remarked Freddy after we had put the ladies into the lift, ‘considering that the old scoundrel drove his wife into an asylum and then eloped to New York with a milliner’s assistant.’

‘I suppose you’ve instructed Ophelia in all the Oxford customs,’ remarked the dowager as she sat down.

‘She doesn’t need any instructions,’ replied Squiff with a bow towards the Bugg, ‘she’s read all the best authorities, Lady Blitherington.’

‘By the way, Aunt,’ said Freddy suddenly, ‘I’ve just had a wire from Maisie, she and Muriel are coming here on Thursday for a week, isn’t it jolly?’

‘Goodness gracious me, Frederick,’ exclaimed the old lady, ‘but never mind, I suppose if they think nothing of putting off their visit to the dear Archdeacon, I mustn’t bother about it; still it is too bad of them.’

‘O no, Aunt, it’s very good of them,’ said Freddy, ‘think how they’ll liven up the place.’

‘I don’t doubt that for a minute,’ said Aunt Julia, and snapped her teeth with unusual decision.

‘Are you out in Chambers or in the College, Mr. Cockerel?’ enquired the Bugg with a pleasant smile.

‘I’m sorry to say it’s my last year, Miss Bugg,’ I replied, ‘and I’m out in digs, you must come and see them some day.’

‘I should love it,’ replied the companion with a rapturous gaze at the electric light.

‘My dear Ophelia,’ interjected a warning voice from the top of the table, ‘you can’t go without a chaperon!’

At this remark I heard a suppressed gurgle beside me and turned in time to see Freddy hide his face in a napkin, while a soup spoon waved feebly in his nerveless fingers.

Squiff, however, who has marvellous self-control, relieved the situation by complimenting Lady Blitherington on the possession of Jacob.

‘The smartest little King Charles I have ever seen,’ he said with apparent sincerity.

‘Ah! Mr. O’Rossa, Ophelia will be pleased to hear you say that,’ said the old lady, ‘she has tended that dog like a baby for the last ten years.’

‘Do you care for dogs, Mr. O’Rossa?’ queried the Bugg.

‘I’m very fond of them, Miss Bugg,’ he replied, ‘I keep several at home.’

‘How nice,’ said the Bugg feelingly, ‘then you must try White Rose soap with them, I’ll give you a cake of it, there’s nothing better.’

‘I should be surprised,’ said Squiff emphatically.

Ophelia, however, did not appear to be troubled by the inanity of his reply, but immediately passed on to discussing the ‘rowing races’ with Freddy, who gave her exceedingly novel explanations of those innocent affairs.

‘I suppose, Mr. Cochrane,’ said Lady Blitherington to me with a kindly smile, ‘I suppose you may stay out till ten o’clock?’

‘Certainly, Lady Blitherington,’ I assented, but forbore to mention how far she had undershot the mark.

‘Very well, then I will order tea for you before you go. I suppose you like tea after dinner, Mr. O’Rossa?’

‘Very much, indeed, my Lady,’ said Squiff, courteously, ‘I esteem it immensely;’ and this answer appeared to agitate Freddy afresh, as he doubtless reflected that Squiff never touches anything milder than Green Chartreuse after dinner except on very rare occasions, when he condescends to a cup of thick Turkish coffee at the Trocadero.

Before Freddy had reappeared from the shelter of his napkin, Miss Bugg, who had been endeavouring to shew me a new way of preparing strawberries with a steel knife, cut herself, and left the dining room in great haste, but we soon followed, and found her seated in an arm-chair, with Jacob fast asleep in her lap and the promised cake of White Rose soap in their immediate neighbourhood.

Lady Blitherington ensconced herself in the other arm-chair, while Squiff, who has a fair baritone voice, sang us ‘Father O’Flynn’ with more vigour than accuracy.

Just before ten an English waiter—born in Hamburg—appeared with what Ophelia persisted in calling ‘a dish of tea,’ and that good soul disappeared in search of Jacob’s own saucer in order that he too might enjoy a little light refreshment before retiring to the elaborately quilted basket awaiting him in her room.

I parted from Freddy and Squiff at Carfax, and on entering our rooms found Reggie and the Pilot enveloped in a positive cloud of smoke, discussing everything in general and nothing in particular.

‘Accrington’s people are coming up on Thursday, Martha,’ said Reggie, as I entered the room.

‘Rot, Reggie,’ said the Pilot, ‘You mean Sybil Accrington is coming; I don’t suppose you care whether her father and mother come here or remain in Liverchester.’

‘It seems to me, Reggie,’ I said, ‘that what with Maisie and Sybil Accrington and others, your hands will be pretty full this week.’

‘The pressing problem of the moment,’ said the Pilot, gravely, as he spread himself in front of the fireplace, ‘is, how many pounds of strawberries are required to feed five healthy English girls, three elderly ladies, two lapdogs, and last but not least, eight undergraduates. Freddy’s arranged a picnic for Sunday, and left me to cater for it with his usual cheek.’

‘Which is his usual cheek, Pilot?’ asked Reggie in his most irritating manner.

‘O the right if it’s left, but if that isn’t right the left,’ said the Pilot gravely, as he heaved a book at Reggie and a sigh to himself, and drifted off to bed.

When Reggie and I came down at 10.30 next morning we found the Pilot interrogating Mrs. McNab as to how she thought trifle and Charlotte Russe would go with cold lamb and salmon mayonnaise.

The worthy lady, whose brain already reeled at the thought of the entertainments to be given at our lodgings during the week, was standing in the doorway murmuring to herself ‘hadd a piece of nutmeg an bile the ’ole in a pudden’ clorth.’

Soon after she had gone, a large brake stopped at our door and the occupants in no mild terms requested Reggie and the Pilot to come out at once, if they did not wish to go where the refrigerator is of no avail.

They obeyed the call, but the Pilot in addition to his cricket bag carried several wine lists and Hooper’s catalogue of ‘cold dishes for picnic parties.’

In order to avoid a meeting with the Bugg, of whom I foresaw we should see a great deal, I motored over to Banbury for lunch with de Beresford. Thus it befell that I missed the most exciting scene of the day when Jacob fell into the river and was rescued by a Humane Society’s man, while the Bugg who had fainted on the Barabbas’ barge was revived by a drop of the bargeman’s private store of brandy.

The crowd at the station, when we got there next day to receive Blitherington and the girls, was something terrific. Nearly every member of the University appeared to be expecting female relations, and most of them must have been satisfied, for the crowd by the 11.50 was simply colossal, though our cheery trio were conspicuous by their absence. After two or three minutes of unavailing search we secured a harassed official who was buzzing round the mouth of the guard’s van, and he assured us that a relief train would arrive in ten minutes, so we possessed ourselves in patience and admired our friends’ sisters.

We were presented to Mrs. and Miss Accrington and had just caught sight of de Beresford escorting his mother and her niece, the Honourable Violet McNeill, who is generally admitted to be the most charming dÉbutante of the season, when the relief train steamed in and a second scene of confusion ensued. Freddy, who is very quick in all things, sorted out from a first-class carriage a faultlessly dressed young man with a monocle and a pink-and-white complexion and two extremely pretty girls, whom he introduced as my cousins Miss Coffington, Miss Muriel Coffington, and Lord Blitherington.

His lordship created the first sensation by enquiring, ‘Is there a really good pawnshop down here?’

‘Yes,’ said Maisie, ‘we picked him up in the Burlington Arcade yesterday, kept him till this morning, gave him sixpence for a shave and brought him down here, and now we’re all three cleaned out; but he’s brought his gold-mounted dressing case to stay with a local Hebrew, and so it’ll be pay day for everybody to-morrow. Now let’s get up to the village inn.’

‘Don’t be in such a hurry, young woman,’ said Blitherington slowly, ‘always reconnoitre your country before advancing your main body; is Ophelia with our Lady Aunt?’

‘Very much so,’ said Freddy.

‘Good-bye then, I’m going back to town,’ said his lordship as he proceeded to climb back into the carriage: but on our pointing out that he had no money, he was persuaded to accompany us to the hotel.

‘Only I warn you,’ he said with a weary smile, ‘if Ophelia commences telling me about Jacob I shall either take to drink or emigrate.’

We could not return to the Granville to lunch, as Freddy and I had promised to lunch with Cobson, and Reggie, who had been persuaded to speak at the Union that evening, had his speech to prepare; however we arranged to meet the girls and Blitherington in the gateway of Thomas’ at four o’clock for the races. As we were walking down St. Aldate’s in the afternoon, Freddy, who professes a great indifference to the charms of his fair cousins, announced his intention of walking with Blitherington, so that Reggie and I were allotted to Maisie and Muriel.

We had only been waiting about ten minutes when the trio hove in sight, Blitherington in a splendid flannel suit—he certainly does know how to dress—and the girls in exceedingly light fluffy chiffons, which always win my heart.

Freddy was inclined to be sarcastic at their little lapse in punctuality, but Maisie at once said to him, ‘Now run along you quaint old thing and try to make Blithers behave himself; can’t you see Mr. Cochrane and I want to be alone?’

I had intended taking Muriel, who though very pretty is said to be quieter than her sister, and giving Reggie the pleasure of Maisie’s decidedly effervescent conversation, but after this how could I resist taking her under my wing.

‘We had a lot of difficulty in shunting Ophelia,’ she said complacently as we started off for the river, ‘the dear old thing is so keen on seeing the boating-races, as she calls them.’

‘Yes,’ chimed in Muriel who wasn’t far behind, ‘we had to send a note round to Charlie Hanbury at Barabbas’, who had already got half a dozen maiden aunts encamped around him, and he promised to take her with them onto the Barabbas’ barge at tea-time.’

‘Well now, Mr. Cochrane,’ began Maisie, ‘we’ve heard a lot about you from Freddy; he says you’d make a cat laugh.’

‘I hope you don’t consider yourself a cat, Miss Coffington,’ I put in quickly.

‘O don’t call me Miss Coffington,’ said Maisie crossly, ‘It’s such a mouthful.’

At this moment Accrington and Cobson, who were rowing in our boat, ran past us, and Maisie, after a hasty glance at their attire, remarked simply, ‘How terribly draughty.’

‘What do you mean, Miss—er—Maisie?’ I asked.

‘Why look at their poor dear knees. Oh, but perhaps Oxford men haven’t got knees officially any more than we have legs.’

‘You’ve got hold of a very good joke,’ I said to Reggie, as peals of laughter came from behind.

‘Yes, Miss Muriel says,’ began Reggie; when Muriel held up a little gloved hand in front of him and said, ‘Oh you horrid man, I shall never tell you anything again if you tell them that.’

‘All right, then I won’t,’ said Reggie; and he didn’t till we were back at home that night.

We went on to the Thomas’ barge, which as everybody knows is next door to the Cecil’s, and found it crowded with the usual assortment of Eights’ week relations, some of them surpassingly beautiful, but some very much the reverse.

We could not find chairs for the girls, so Maisie sat upon a railing with her feet hanging over the edge, till Freddy’s tutor came up from below and informed him that it was hardly decent. So we sat down upon the steps just as the minute gun went off.

‘What an unpleasant old man,’ said Maisie. ‘He’s obviously got no daughters of his own or he’d be in better training.’

‘Oh yes he has,’ said Freddy, ‘but one’s the Professor of ArchÆology at Girton and the other edits “Clippings for Careful Housewives.”’

‘Oh yes, I know,’ said Maisie, ‘if I scrubbed my face till it shone and wore red flannel petticoats he’d have smiled upon me.’

At this juncture the starting gun boomed out, and very soon after the mingled noises of cheering, rattles, horns, and all kinds of unmusical instruments floated up the stream.

‘Are they coming yet?’ asked Muriel excitedly, as in her efforts to get a better view she trod upon the hat of a lady on a lower step who looked, as she subsequently said, ‘like a ferret with lockjaw’; ‘and what boat’s that?’ as the top of the division began to appear by the ’Varsity boat-house.

‘Gloucester, I think,’ Reggie said. ‘Yes it must be, and there’s our boat close behind.’

‘I think you’ll get them all right,’ said Freddy who with Blitherington was suspended from the awning just above our heads.

‘I lay you a dollar they don’t,’ said the other, ‘why the beggars are as blown as glass.’

Conversation then ceased as the two leading boats of the division came closer into view. Gloucester were about a quarter of a length ahead and rowing fairly evenly, while the Cecil’s crew appeared rather the worse for wear, but in spite of this the fact of being opposite their own barge and other people’s sisters nerved them up to such an extent that they shot up level with the rudder of the Gloucester boat just as they passed us. I caught sight of the face of the Cecil’s stroke, a little man who splendidly exemplifies the old adage that ‘the best goods are done up in the smallest parcels,’ and noticed that he at any rate did not appear to be completely exhausted as yet. Their little cox was rising up in his seat like a soufflÉ and edging the Gloucester man, who had very foolishly taken the inner berth, closer and closer into the bank. At last the oar of number two in the Gloucester boat grazed the rushes and their cox was obliged to pull out into the stream, so Cecil’s gained their bump just opposite the Lichfield barge and hardly two lengths from the end of the course. The other boats all rowed over, that being the only bump in the division.

When the Cecil’s boat returned to their barge next door to us we all set up a tremendous cheer, and Reggie departed in great haste to congratulate Miss Accrington, who was clapping her little hands with the most sisterly devotion. I scrambled down below with Freddy to get some tea, but this was a very hazardous business and it was nearer twenty minutes than ten before I secured two cups for the girls, and we waited patiently for the first division.

About half-past five the Thomas’ men came out on the raft just beneath us and stepped gingerly into their boat which was the eighth in the first division. Maisie fell violently in love with the cox, who though exceptionally diminutive was possessed of a megaphonic voice which as Freddy coarsely remarked, ‘Fetches the girls every time.’

The boat put off into mid stream, and when the cox repeated the usual formula of ‘Forward, are you ready, paddle!’ in stentorian tones, Maisie was so moved that I thought for a minute she was actually going to jump in after him.

Blitherington, who had been down below consuming something which was not tea, now reappeared and said, ‘Can’t we go down the river in a punt for this division, Freddy?’

‘Oh, yes, certainly if you like,’ he answered, ‘I haven’t got a punt, but we’ll soon get one.’

We all trooped down the steps, and Freddy pirated the punt of some unknown scholar, while Reggie fetched the Pilot’s cushions from the adjoining barge.

‘Now who’s going to pole?’ said Maisie.

‘O, Martha’ll punt,’ said Freddy, ‘he rather likes it.’

‘All right, I’ll take her down,’ I said, ‘if you’ll bring us back, Freddy.’

This struck me as rather a cute dodge, for the stream will take anybody down, whereas punting back up the river through about a hundred other boats is a serious task.

Freddy however assented immediately, and we got under weigh, leaving Reggie with Accrington’s sister. After we had secured a place in the long line down the tow-path side we spent the time very pleasantly in consuming sponge rusks borrowed from a Barabbas’ man next door who had a tea-party in full swing. This same party was amalgamated with that of Hanbury, and from the bottom of his punt the Bugg suddenly bobbed up and hailed us effusively. Blitherington wanted to move on at once, but we pointed out that we should not get such a good position anywhere else, and also that the Barabbas’ rusks were very delectable.

We had been there fully five minutes when Miss Bugg gave vent to a terrible screech, and we noticed that Jacob’s back was blazing furiously with blue fire from the spirit lamp which the Bugg had upset over him. She took off her cloak and endeavoured to smother the flames, but Hanbury very unfeelingly threw Jacob into the water to the great distress of Ophelia, who screamed louder than ever. We might have had every canoe and punt in the river paddling up to ascertain who was being murdered, but Blitherington quietly drew a cushion from beneath Muriel’s head and with a well directed shot caught Ophelia in the back of the neck. This treatment appeared to soothe Miss Bugg, though the aforementioned six maiden aunts made some remark about ‘an unmannerly young cub,’ and we had to persuade the Pilot, who passed at that moment in a Canader, to take his lordship with him.

Soon after this all the first division except Thomas’ and Lichfield rowed by us, the former having bumped the latter just above the Gut. Immediately the last boat had gone by we pulled up our pole and started up stream under the energetic if erratic guidance of Freddy. When we came opposite the ’Varsity Boat-house we collided with a punt which contained three elderly ladies and a harassed-looking clergyman, punted by a meek individual who must have come from Park Temple.

Freddy, having bumped the Parson’s elbow, sheered off in the opposite direction and ran into the stern of a canoe, the owner of which quietly ladled a few quarts of water over Maisie’s dress.

‘Drat the man,’ she said, ‘Why can’t he—’ And then as he lifted his hat and apologised profusely, ‘O pray don’t mention it, water can’t possibly do any harm,’ and we went on our way, though perhaps not rejoicing. The Thomas’ barge was too full of people thumping their eightsmen upon the back, so we landed on the Cecil’s raft and walked slowly back up the fine avenue, which was crowded with youth and beauty all going in one direction.

There was no great excitement that night, and as Muriel complained of being tired, the ladies retired early, while Blitherington kindly organized a poker party in my rooms after the Union debate, and carried off thirty shillings from our united funds. With the exception of one and twopence this had all disappeared by the following morning, for while I was in Freddy’s digs at about sherry-and-bitter time, Blitherington came in to ask if he might put half-a-dozen collars and a silk handkerchief down to his account at Sampson’s.

That afternoon we took the girls out in canoes for the Eights and Maisie fell to me, while Freddy sacrificed himself to the extent of taking Lady Blitherington and Ophelia out in a large and equably-balanced punt. Squiff disappeared with Muriel in another canoe; while Blitherington, to whom the sight of Ophelia is as a red rag to a bull, persuaded Reggie to take him out in a punt alone.

‘What are you going to do with me this afternoon?’ said Maisie as she settled herself in my Canader, ‘don’t you think we ought to have brought Miss Bugg as chaperon?’

I suppose my face must have expressed my feelings, for she laughed and added, ‘Well, we’ll compromise by taking Jacob,’ which we did.

‘I’m a firm believer in laziness, aren’t you, Mr. Cochrane,’ she said as we turned up the Cher; ‘let’s get into some quiet nook and watch the people passing.’

‘I like Oxford,’ she added after a short pause, ‘I can say what I like without everybody thinking I mean something else. That’s sometimes so unpleasant. I wonder,’ she remarked musingly, ‘who I’m going to marry; what sort of person do you think would suit me, Mr. Cochrane?’

‘I should put you down for a Sir William Shipton or something like that, Miss Maisie,’ I answered.

‘Oh! the money part of that is all right, but I want a respectable and presentable person, not an aitchless remnant with a squint and large feet.’

‘Oh! I suppose a decent sort of Englishman who bathes daily and plays most games would do you,’ I suggested.

‘Yes I think so, but he must be big and strong to satisfy me.’

‘There are some of them to be found even in these hard times,’ I assented.

‘Thank the Lord,’ said Maisie piously; and we changed the subject.

‘Look,’ she cried suddenly, as a punt containing a portly and painted dowager shot past, propelled by a weedy-looking youth with pince-nez, ‘that’s old Lady Dombonpoint, the widow of Sir Herbert of the celebrated ‘Aurol for Aching Ears.’ She’s as rich as they make them, and yet she only allowed her son, that sickly-looking youth, half-a-crown a week for pocket money at Eton, and bought his clothes from a slop-shop in Tottenham Court Road. But you know,’ she continued in a whisper, although no one was near,—and when Maisie whispers I know what to expect,—‘she was awfully gone on Blitherington last season, and followed him all round the Park, not to speak of country-houses and restaurants; he had a wretched time till she finally proposed to him at Ascot on a coach. Of course he rejected her, and then she fainted. He told me he might have stood her for a year, but he was sure she was what he calls a “stayer,” and would live to a hundred.’ Before I had time to make any comment on this extraordinary episode in the life of the youthful peer, the Bugg’s voice penetrated to our shelter and we caught the words, ‘I told him he was an idiot to oppose the Plural Dean, and no wonder they call it the Church Irritant if he is a curate.’ And the punt containing the inimitable Ophelia passed on. ‘There!’ said Maisie explosively, ‘that’s a nice thing to have tacked on to me, isn’t it? She’s Blithers’ bÊte noir; why one day she told him that he oughtn’t to smoke, as it produced a weakness in the pneumatic nerve!’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m sorry for you, but still you must admit she answers the description that a certain paper bestowed on itself not long ago, “Funny without being vulgar.”’

‘I don’t know,’ said Maisie doubtfully, ‘why I could tell you some things she’s said that—well perhaps I’d better not.’

‘Oh! do,’ I said, ‘why not collect Buggisms.’

‘Why not, indeed,’ said Maisie, and thereafter a thoughtful silence ensued.

‘I think it’s about time we went back,’ I said, having occupied the interval in gazing at Maisie’s very shapely ankles; ‘I should like to stay here for ever, but—’

‘Of course you’re bound to say that,’ interrupted Maisie, as I began to rise ready to pole, ‘but the question is, do you really mean it?’

I was in the act of pushing off when a fearful shock sent me flying into Maisie’s lap, and her parasol into the water. Maisie was just preparing to utter her favourite ‘cuss-word,’ as she calls it, when a cheerful and inane voice from the offending boat remarked languidly, ‘Hullo! Maisie, what do you stick your old hearse in the light for?’

‘It’s not a hearse,’ retorted Maisie, angrily, ‘and Mr. Cochrane has been very kind and attentive to me.’

‘Oh! I’m sure of it,’ chuckled Blitherington, for it was he and Reggie in another punt, though neither of them seemed to be punting, and their boat was drifting broadside on down stream. ‘All the world,’ he continued, solemnly, ‘is attentive to its friends’ sisters and cousins.’

‘If we want to see the Eights we must move on,’ I interrupted hastily, as I saw Reggie beginning to give utterance to some home-truth, and Reggie’s home-truths are the most unpleasant that I know. Fortunately Blitherington assented, and so we all punted down to the barge together. The races were most exciting to all but Cecil’s, who rowed over hopelessly, being behind the bump of James’ and Llewellyn’s. It was decided not to watch the first division, as Blithers had arranged to drive a large party out in a coach to sup at Woodstock and return by moonlight.

The supper in The Lion was an enormous success, and it is not wonderful that on the return journey there was a great scramble for the inside of the coach, the four places being eventually secured by Freddy, Muriel, Reggie, and Sybil Accrington. As to what occurred I am unable to make any definite statement, though Reggie insists that Freddy kissed him by mistake in the dark, and this Freddy denies, like Peter, ‘with an oath’; however from the silence inside I gathered that they were all enjoying themselves. Outside Maisie and I, Blithers, Farmborough, the Pilot, Miss MacNeill and de Beresford sang comic songs with ever-increasing vigour, while the Bugg, who had come as general chaperon, rhapsodised into the unheeding ears of the Pilot, who had, as he afterwards admitted, fallen asleep through weariness.

The next day was devoted to an inspection of the various colleges, monuments, and points of interest, with tea afterwards in different rooms, ‘a regular field-day for the Bugg,’ as Freddy aptly remarked. On being questioned later as to what she had seen, she mixed up the Martyrs’ Memorial with St. Peter’s-in-the-East, and stated at dinner that she considered the Sheldonian ‘such an ornament to the Parks.’ In the evening Freddy and I conveyed the Famille Blitherington to the O.U.D.S. performance in Gloucester Gardens, in which Fatty sustained a prominent part very creditably, and Cobson did wonderful quick changes as ‘2nd Lord, serving man, knight, soldier, citizen, and apprentice.’ Blitherington afterwards remarked to him, ‘My dear old native, if you went on at the Pav. in town as Ratsini, the quick-change man, you’d make your fortune, and probably marry some light of the variety stage into the bargain. Try it!’

This al fresco entertainment was over earlier than such affairs usually are, and so soon after ten o’clock we left the Dowager and her suite at the Granville and returned to our digs. As we ascended the stairs we heard peels of laughter coming from the room, and Reggie’s raucous voice enquiring, ‘Do you open’?

‘Lord, yes,’ said a lady’s voice, ‘I’ll let you in for twopence.’

A cheery poker party was gathered round the table, consisting of Reggie, the Pilot, de Beresford, Accrington, and a very smart little lady whose face was unknown to us.

‘Hullo, you birds, I didn’t expect you quite so early,’ Reggie cried, ‘let me introduce you to my friend Mrs. Jack Lomond, Lord Blitherington, Mr. Cochrane.’

The lady removed a jewelled cigarette tube from her mouth, and enquired with a smile, ‘Won’t you join the dance, as they say in “Alice in Wonderland.”’

‘Oh, don’t let us spoil your game,’ returned Blithers, ‘five’s the best number for poker.’

‘That’s all right,’ said the Pilot, ‘we were just finishing this when you came. Let’s turn it into Bank, if Mrs. Lomond has no objection.’

‘Oh, whatever you like,’ the lady put in with a smile; ‘you must be rather surprised at my appearance here,’ she continued, addressing me, ‘but Reggie asked me down for the picnic to-morrow, and I hadn’t time to reply, so I came in person, which is perhaps better.’

As we settled down at the historical round table to play Bank, I observed that Blithers carefully commandeered the chair next to Mrs. Lomond, and she enquired of him at once, ‘Are you any relation to Billy Jenkins of the 110th? I used to know him when I was in India.’

‘Oh yes,’ returned Blithers cheerfully, ‘he’s my uncle, and a very good sort too, but,’ he added with sudden apprehension, ‘please don’t mention him to my aunt to-morrow, he’s the black sheep of the family.’

‘Poor old Jenks,’ Mrs. Lomond remarked reflectively, ‘I used to tell him when we were at Jumbulpore that he’d never come to a good end. His affections were too shifting; he never stuck to one love for more than a month.’

‘Not even his wife,’ remarked Blithers solemnly, as play proceeded, accompanied by much frivolous conversation.

Soon after 11.30 Mrs. Lomond rose to go, remarking, ‘It’s very good of you all to have given me such a pleasant evening. See you in the morning, Reggie.’

‘Half a mo, Mrs. Lomond,’ said Blithers, as he skipped down the staircase after her, ‘I’m going your way, may I see you home?’ And they left together.

‘Jolly little woman, isn’t she?’ said Reggie. ‘And clever too; she’s got all the diplomatic posts attached to her petticoat, and Secretaries of State attend her like lap dogs. Her husband is, I believe, in Northern Nigeria,’ he added reflectively as we moved up to bed, ‘and the date of his return is quite uncertain.’

The next day, Sunday, was that fixed for the great picnic up at Marston, for which the unwilling Pilot had been appointed Caterer and General Manager. A regular fleet of punts had been chartered to convey the party, and cushions were piled in stacks, while Woodman’s express toiled down soon after breakfast under an immense load of eat- and drinkables. It required our utmost efforts to arouse de Beresford, who had finished the previous day and commenced this by an all-night poker sitting lasting till daylight. By the time Freddy had got his aunt and Ophelia under weigh, and we had shepherded the girls from the Cathedral to the barge, it was very nearly mid-day. The stowing process took some time, though as I had already secured Muriel, Maisie and Reggie for my punt, I did not much mind what happened. We headed the procession, carrying, I fancy, most of the liquid refreshment, and punted up stream at a fearful rate under Reggie’s guidance. We had scarcely passed the Thomas’ ferry when a fearful yell announced that the Bugg’s parasol had caught in the rope, and been carried down stream. It was rescued by a man in a Canader and brought back to Ophelia, who beamed on the canoeist and said, ‘So kind of you to have reprieved my sunshade.’ This remark was passed down to the other punts, and reduced Blithers to such a hopeless state that he declared himself unable to punt any longer, and retired in favour of Accrington, who continued to propel the boat for the rest of the day.

The party progressed without incident for some time, during which Reggie, who had contrived that I should punt, engaged the girls in conversation, which appeared to afford them immense amusement, but which I could not catch; and though I repeatedly begged to share the joke, their only reply was to shout in chorus, ‘Now do punt up, we’re hardly moving.’ Their unsympathetic treatment at length moved me to give up punting, and balance the pole carefully on Reggie, who after a while bestirred himself to work.

‘I wonder,’ remarked Maisie contemplatively, as I seated myself beside her, ‘whether anything liquid and cool is obtainable in this department.’

‘I will see,’ I said, as I foraged in the end and discovered a jar of Moselle Cup. ‘How’s that?’

‘Great,’ said Muriel and Maisie in chorus, as they each held out a glass.

‘Ah!’ continued Maisie, as she gulped it down and paused to think, ‘I feel just like that mythological undraped person, who was always drinking and never satisfied.’

‘There must have been lots of them, both the thirsty and the undraped,’ I said, ‘your description is rather vague.’

‘Yes, perhaps it is,’ she replied, ‘but anyhow I wish we adhered to those ancient customs now, except perhaps that one about not being satisfied.’

‘I think——,’ I began, when it struck me that my thoughts had better be suppressed, and I relapsed into silence.

By this time we had pretty nearly reached the Rollers, so we waited for the other punts to come up, that containing Accrington, de Beresford and Ophelia being easily last.

‘Hullo Ophelia!’ cried Freddy as they came up, ‘I didn’t think it of you, waiting there under the bushes for such a time with de B. I suppose you felt rather out of it as gooseberry,’ he continued addressing Accrington.

‘My dear Frederick,’ called out Lady Blitherington from a punt propelled by the perspiring Pilot, ‘pray do not suggest such awful things. I am surprised at you.’

‘Well, Aunt, if Ophelia will be such a giddy old thing, what can you expect?’ Freddy answered, as amid general confusion we disembarked at the Rollers.

The Bugg had got as far as ‘You’re that pernicious to annoy one—’ when her boat hit the landing stage with a heavy thump, and her further remarks were lost. I noticed that in the general re-sorting which took place, the Pilot contrived that Accrington should have the honour of punting Lady Blitherington while he himself embarked with Miss MacNeill, who is sometimes described as ‘amusing’ and sometimes ‘forward,’ it all depends on the age and sex of the speaker. The Pilot, who is universally known as an old woman, says that a mean between the two would probably suit the case.

‘O Reggie,’ said Mrs. Lomond, as she stepped carefully out of Freddy’s canoe, ‘do come here for a minute, the bottom of that canoe was all wet.’

Reggie trotted gaily forward and marshalled her towards a disused bathing box following himself with a dish-cloth, but she gripped the door firmly and said ‘Oh no, you must send me a girl, this isn’t your innings, go and field outside.’

Reg commandeered Muriel, and Mrs. Lomond soon reappeared smiling, and murmured to me as I helped her into a punt, ‘I’ll pay Reggie out for that dish-cloth afterwards.’

We paddled round to pick up the ladies, and I found myself in de Beresford’s punt with Sybil Accrington and the Bugg, who positively declined to move into any other craft, though we all declared that the boat was dangerously full. Miss Accrington and I held pleasant converse amidships, while Ophelia, propped up by a four-gallon jar of claret cup and two hampers, chattered cheerfully to de Beresford, who was punting most skilfully. It is the one form of exercise that the dear old thing is addicted to, and so we are very careful never to deprive him of any opportunity to reduce his circumference. Among other things, I discovered, to my great gratification, that Sybil would be at the same place with us in the Vac.—pretty name Sybil.

The sun was shining brightly, the birds were twittering, and everything was going beautifully, when the irresponsible Miss Bugg was nearly guilty of the manslaughter of all four of us.

‘Mr. de Beresford,’ she murmured with an ingratiating smile, ‘do you know I never care to see a musical comedy.’

‘Indeed, Miss Bugg, and how is that?’ the Pharisee enquired politely, as he carefully wiped one sleeve and thereby allowed the water to trickle on to the other.

‘Well, you see, I disapprove most strongly of all those ballet girls looking like Lady Saliva in the streets of Coventry.’

De Beresford surveyed her solemnly for half a minute and then dropped the pole and collapsed heavily on to a heap of cushions, while Miss Bugg, who takes herself very seriously, prattled on about the elevating influence of Shakespeare.

We glided quietly and peacefully into the bank, and there we stuck till the Pilot came along and pulled us off, but the Pharisee was too exhausted to renew his labours, and I was obliged to take his place till we reached Marston. We arrived there first with the Pilot, and the others turned up at intervals, each punt bringing a goodly assortment of hampers and stone jars.

At last we had all assembled, the cloths were laid on a nice piece of level grass, and the Dowager was comfortably settled on an air pillow and a collection of punt cushions, when Ophelia emitted a melancholy gurgle and cried tearfully,

‘I’ve forgotten Lady Blitherington’s little flask.’

‘Pas beaucoup, Ophelia,’ chortled his lordship, as he produced a very diminutive silver bottle from the lining of his panama and gave it to the Bugg. ‘I knew you’d lose it, old girl, so I just took the liberty of removing it from your pocket when we landed at the rollers.’

Ophelia heaved a sigh of satisfaction and settled down beside the Dowager, while we all bestowed ourselves conveniently around the cloth, each one as far as possible next to the lady of his choice.

‘A little of the pink fish with the yellow blanket, thank you, Mr. Cochrane,’ said Maisie cheerfully as I offered her a variety of tasty dishes; the Pilot talked a lot about that picnic, but he certainly managed it very well all the same.

Blitherington, who was seated only a few feet off, in fact just the other side of Muriel, was what Maisie described as ‘on the war-path,’ and we heard him asking Miss MacNeill some most exciting riddles. He absolutely refused to share them with us, until Reggie handed him a dish of cold chicken and ham, and then after looking at it solemnly for half a minute he turned his anxious gaze on me and enquired ‘Do you know, my ancient lord of creation, why hotel chickens are like ballet-girls?’

‘No,’ I answered feebly, I always seem to say ‘no,’ when I’m asked anything catchy, I don’t think a fine frank open nature like mine is adapted to discovering puzzles.

The incorrigible Blithers just chirruped ungrammatically ‘It’s because they’re all legs;’ and by the time Lady Blitherington had turned her lorgnettes in his direction he was busily engaged carving a saddle of lamb for his fair neighbour.

‘Don’t encourage him, Mr. Cochrane,’ Muriel whispered to me, ‘If Blithers once gets loose he’s apt to travel quite a distance, and he only begins where Auntie draws the line.’

‘What’s that about drawing the line?’ asked Miss MacNeill, leaning across towards Muriel with a bewitching smile.

‘Oh, I only said Blitherington goes a long way before he thinks it necessary to draw it,’ Muriel replied.

‘It all depends what sort of a line you are talking about,’ Blitherington put in, ‘I know some ladies in evening dress who never seem to be going to draw a line at all.’

‘Tut, Blithers,’ said Muriel, ‘you’d pervert an ecclesiastical synod.’

‘Not much,’ returned the incorrigible peer, ‘I couldn’t spare the time. Suffering Sosthenes,’ he added after a pause, ‘just listen to Ophelia, she mixes her metaphors like those Reading birds do their biscuits.’

At this moment Reggie, who had risen to search for the salt, created a sufficient diversion by sitting down in the remains of the salmon mayonnaise, and was accordingly compelled to take off his coat and wear Mr. Accrington’s aquascutum for the rest of the day. Lady Blitherington, who was much exercised by the unfortunate contretemps, very kindly offered him her purple velvet cloak, but he declined the proffered honour with thanks. The general attention was distracted from the unfortunate Reggie by Blithers, who had discovered Accrington and Muriel seated behind a tree discussing rabbit-pie and other things.

The most amusing thing about Accrington is the changefulness of his affections; he has, as Reggie remarked not long ago, the most expansive and expensive heart in Oxford. Only a week ago two of his ‘best girls’ arrived together quite unexpectedly and held prolonged and wordy warfare in his rooms until they caught sight of some photos of a third ‘best girl,’ when they buried the hatchet and tore up the other girl’s photos together. It may be added that when the third girl herself arrived a day or two later, her rage at finding none of her portraits on exhibition was only appeased by an even more costly gift than usual. These facts being well known among his friends, we were not a little amused to see that he had attached himself like a leech to Muriel for the last three days, weather and Reggie permitting.

‘What about the Babes in the Wood?’ yelled Blitherington with his most aggravating smile, as Muriel peered round the corner.

‘Oh! they haven’t arrived yet,’ she replied, ‘but what do you mean?’

Unfortunately this mystery was never cleared up, as Blithers returned to the family circle and was busily engaged in feeding Jacob on chocolate creams, which the faithful animal, to employ a euphemism, soon contrived to unswallow in a secluded portion of the meadow.

As I turned to help Mrs. Accrington, who was most usefully employed in showing an awkward squad how to wash dishes, a voice behind me murmured,

‘Oh, Mr. Cochrane, please take me somewhere and give me a cigarette, I simply daren’t smoke before the Dowager.’

Personally I always affect a certain brand of leaf-covered invention known to the trade as cigarillos, but I obtained a supply of thin gold-tipped cigarettes from Reggie, who always keeps a selection of strange apparatus in his cigarette-case.

As we climbed over a gate and sat down behind the nearest hedge Mrs. Lomond remarked, ‘Good boy, Reggie, I met him when I was out at Cannes for the Ladies golf matches; he did everything for me except sign my card.’

‘He’s a born organizer,’ I said; ‘the anti-dons campaign that he arranged in Cecil’s prospered as no such enterprise has ever done before, and he doped the porter so successfully that the only name found on his black book next morning was that of an inoffensive Scholar who was visiting a sick aunt in Penzance.’

‘I wish,’ she said, ‘that you and he would come up to town next week, and help me run our theatricals at the “Regality” in aid of the “Home for Helpless Hairdressers;” it’s bound to be a great success, the Duke is coming at half-time, and I’ll introduce you to some of the prettiest girls. If you like to wear an apron and carry a shaving brush in your hand you might even sell programmes,’ she added with the air of one who makes a great concession.

‘That’s all right for me,’ I put in, ‘but don’t you think that Reggie’s heart is full enough already, and yet stay,’ I added, ‘there is still room for a few more in bin twenty-three.’

‘How much do you expect to clear,’ I asked her after a short pause.

‘O several thousand,’ she said cheerfully. ‘You see the Duchess of Dopingburgh is kissing all comers at half-a-crown a time, and Violet MacNeill is going to serve at the American bar. But I think we’d better be going back,’ she added, ‘if we don’t want to be left here for the night.’

As we regained the scene of the orgy, Freddy gathered up all the remaining cloths and thrust them into a small trunk, while Mr. Accrington sat upon it and tried to turn the lock without much success.

‘There they are,’ cried Blithers as we appeared, ‘now let’s be going.’

‘What punt are you going in, Ophelia?’ Freddy enquired.

‘Oh, I’ll go in the most aggressive one,’ Miss Bugg replied with a pleasant smile, ‘I’m all for going fast.’

And so we embarked in a most amiable mood. The return journey was more or less uneventful, though my conversation with Violet MacNeill was quite the reverse. The unfortunate de Beresford who punted us down must have had a very poor time, for Blithers and Mrs. Lomond were much too busily engaged to pay any attention to him.

As we proceeded up the Broad Walk Mrs. Accrington sidled up to me and enquired with evident anxiety, ‘How do you think Steve is getting on with his work? he writes us such cheering letters, but we saw Mr. Yelland to-day and he seemed most despondent.’

‘O the Yelper is always a Job’s Comforter, Mrs. Accrington,’ I said, ‘besides poor old Stephen’s quite a model worker.’

This seemed to satisfy the anxious parent, and I guided the conversation into less dangerous channels. Before the various families split up we made arrangements for a round of sight seeing on the following day, which was to finish with the James’ Ball. On the morrow all my time was taken up with an old friend of the family who had come down for the day, and I had to undergo all the sufferings of a hired guide round Oxford who doesn’t know his subject well. I contrived however to send her off soon after tea, and gained comparative rest by a couple of hours’ bridge in Farmborough’s rooms. We all dined with Mr. Accrington at the Hyde, and started about 9.0 for the ball, gathering the famille Blitherington as we passed their hotel. After introducing as many people as possible to all the girls, I completely lost track of the party till about supper-time, being mostly engaged with my No. 1. girl from Somerville who is a very cheery little body but suffers from worker’s conscience, a most distressing weakness which prevents me seeing very much of her except at occasional dances. A ball at Oxford is a wonderfully pretty sight, and well calculated to impress anybody seeing one for the first time. All the men and the girls are young and fresh, and there is a complete absence of the doddering old men and young women of fifty who give a sad tone to big dances in London and elsewhere. The handsome quads of James’ were most artistically lighted with myriads of fairy lights and Chinese lanterns, and the beautiful old-world gardens twinkled, though not too brightly, with wonderful devices in red and yellow. Supper was laid in the fine hall of the College and I secured two seats for Muriel and myself under a famous Archbishop who has been dead for over three hundred years, and beside Blithers and Mrs. Lomond, who were very much alive.

‘Martha,’ said Blitherington, as I sat down, ‘try some of this fizz, it’s quite innocuous.’

‘What is it,’ I said, ‘Robinson pere et fils?’

‘O no,’ he replied, ‘it’s one of the non-poisonous varieties this time.’

However, Blitherington was apparently at fault, for I heard a warning voice behind me saying, ‘I wouldn’t try none o’ that, if I was you, sir,’ and I turned to see our old scout Webster who had apparently been imported for the evening, ‘There’s somethin’ hin the Buttery as might suit you, sir,’ he added. ‘There’s honly heighteen bottles been hordered an them for the Committee, but I dessay as ’ow I can get yer two.’

I clearly saw that this meant a Christmas-box to Webster, but readily assented as one always does on such occasions, and the two bottles were speedily forthcoming.

After supper I had a peaceful waltz with Miss Accrington; and subsequently conducted Miss MacNeill to a dark staircase in the second Quad.

‘It seems to me,’ she remarked after we had mounted a flight and settled ourselves in someone’s rooms, ‘It seems to me that the world is about equally divided between the loved and the unloved, and the great thing is to avoid being in the second class.’

‘Well, of course we know which lot you’re in,’ I replied quickly.

‘That’s very nice of you, Marth—, I mean Mr. Cochrane, but I was just thinking of the terrible number of girls who go through all this kind of thing and linger on to become sour old maids.’

Although at that particular moment I happened to be holding Miss MacNeill’s hand in order to keep it warm, it is quite impossible that that could have been any reason for her squeezing it affectionately, and sighing softly; however, it was very stimulating, and I went on to say,

‘I believe the proportion of men to women in the world is about two to three, even including black men, and I’m sure you wouldn’t marry a Fijian or a Sandwichman.’

‘Oh, why not,’ she put in, ‘I think a Pacific islander would make such a desirable husband. You’d know such a lot about him before your marriage.’

‘Whatever do you mean, Violet?’ I asked.

‘On, no,’ she said, ‘I only mean that on a little coral island everybody would be sure to know all about their neighbours, so that you wouldn’t be likely to get hold of a post-nuptial surprise packet, and anyhow, he’d be bound to be Pacific.’

It was at this precise moment that Feltham, the owner of the rooms and a distant cousin of mine, arrived and remarked apologetically, ‘I’m awfully sorry that there’s only that one chair in the room, but the fact is they’ve commandeered all my best for the Ladies’ Cloaker at the bottom of the staircase—’, but here I noticed that Violet had departed with unusual shyness, and so I too withdrew hastily, leaving the owner surveying his apartment with a puzzled expression.

As I reached the Quad a soft little hand was linked in to my arm, and Violet enquired anxiously, ‘Do you think he thought anything?’

‘Oh no,’ I replied, ‘he couldn’t have, besides he wouldn’t say anything if he did.’

‘Oh, all right, take me to get an ice, will you, Frank,’ she said shyly, ‘it was so awfully hot up there, wasn’t it?’

I satisfied the fair lady with a marvellous icy rose with vanilla petals and strawberry leaves in a little white frilling of Japanese paper, and soon afterwards found myself dancing a most energetic set of lancers with Maisie.

As we were leaving the floor after it was over, Maisie said to me with a bewitching smile, ‘Have you found my cosy corner?’

‘I don’t see how anybody could find one with so many people about,’ I very naturally responded.

‘O yes you can,’ she said, ‘come along, I’ll soon show it you.’ And she guided me to a most beautiful arbour in the garden, where we watched the mysterious romantic world outside crawling in and out among the countless little red lights like a scene out of some worm and fire-fly carnival.

‘Here it is,’ she said as she settled herself carefully and with an eye to effect. I should always have thought that Maisie would have been rather a careless girl, but you ought never to attempt to judge women till you have seen a good deal of them; and even then you are apt to be a bit previous.

I enjoyed myself immensely, and Maisie’s behaviour was most improper, in fact I don’t know what her Aunt would have said, for she consumed three cigarettes.

However, all good things must come to an end, and after wasting two waltzes and a barn-dance on me, Maisie said that we really must return to the Ball-tent.

This was the first Quad, which had been entirely roofed over, and a beautifully swung floor put in, while all the passages and archways were carpeted and the grim old walls hung with flags and festooned draperies of the James’ colours.

Lady Blitherington had enjoyed her evening, for the Bursar of James’ was a former tutor in her family and had behaved like a hero to her and Ophelia throughout the dance; as the Bugg said to me on our way home: ‘It was one of the most absorbent evenings I have ever spent.’

After Freddy and I had seen the old ladies back to the Granville we returned to James’ for the photo, which was taken in the second Quad by three separate photographers, who spent about twenty minutes over preliminaries and only as many seconds over the actual operation.

It had long been daylight when I regained our digs and crept quietly into my room without awaking the Pilot or Reggie, not that either of them deserved any consideration, for the Pilot who sleeps next to me snores like a foghorn, while Reggie very frequently returns from town by the Dons’ lubricator about two a.m. and makes enough noise to stampede a herd of wild bulls.

Tired as everyone must have been, we were all up by 12, and saw the Accringtons off for Manchester, being especially dismal on saying farewell to the charming Sybil.

There was a general move again in the afternoon, when the Dowager and her party left for town by the 4.20, only leaving behind Blitherington who, on hearing that Mrs. Lomond did not go till Wednesday, refused to budge. Miss Bugg’s last remark to the effect that ‘her head was going round like one of those aerated fans,’ failed to raise even a smile from Reggie.

The Dowager extended a cordial invitation to all of us to visit her in town, which was seconded warmly in my case by Maisie, on whom I flatter myself—but no I won’t say what I thought, lest I be accused of vanity, besides there is Sybil as well.

It seemed, as the Pilot remarked, very dull after they had all gone; and the horrible flirtation carried on by Mrs. Lomond and her admirer failed to arouse us from the depths of despondency, only partially lightened by Cecil’s doing its fourth bump on Wednesday afternoon, and the prospect of what Reggie called a ‘roaring old bump-supper.’ Perhaps, as Squiff said, when I suddenly discovered my Finals to be only two weeks distant, ‘If you have your fun you must expect to pay for it.’ So I consider a drop from a possible second in Law to a certain third was not expensive.

OXFORD
BURROWS AND DOE, PRINTERS
THE HOLYWELL PRESS