him, he began to dream out his future life.

And when he rose half an hour afterwards, and turned his steps
homewards, he knew with an inward tremor of heart that the next great
step of the way was practically taken. For there by the gliding river,
and in view of the distant Oxford spires, which his fancy took to
witness the act, he had vowed himself in prayer and self-abasement to
the ministry of the Church.

During the three weeks that followed he made some frantic efforts to
make up lost ground. He had not been idle for a single day, but he had
been unwise, an intellectual spendthrift, living in a continuous
succession of enthusiasms, and now at the critical moment his stock of
nerve and energy was at a low ebb. He went in depressed and tired, his
friends watching anxiously for the result. On the day of the Logic
paper, as he emerged into the Schools quadrangle, he felt his arm caught
by Mr. Grey.

'Come with me for a walk, Elsmere; you look as if some air would do you
good.'

Robert acquiesced, and the two men turned into the passage way leading
out on to Radcliffe Square.

'I have done for myself, sir,' said the youth with a sigh, half
impatience, half depression. 'It seems to me to-day that I had neither
mind nor memory. If I get a second I shall be lucky.'

'Oh, you will get your second whatever happens,' said Mr. Grey quietly,
'and you mustn't be too much cast down about it if you don't get your
first.'

This implied acceptance of his partial defeat, coming from another's
lips, struck the excitable Robert like a lash. It was only what he had
been saying to himself, but in the most pessimist forecasts we make for
ourselves, there is always an under protest of hope.

'I have been wasting my time here lately,' he said, hurriedly raising
his college cap from his brows as if it oppressed them, and pushing his
hair back with a weary restless gesture.

'No,' said Mr. Grey, turning his kind frank eyes upon him. 'As far as
general training goes, you have not wasted your time at all. There are
many clever men who don't get a first class, and yet it is good for them
to be here--so long as they are not loungers and idlers, of course. And
you have not been a lounger; you have been headstrong, and a little
over-confident, perhaps,'--the speaker's smile took all the sting out
of the words--'but you have grown into a man, and you are fit now for
man's work. Don't let yourself be depressed, Elsmere. You will do bette