between us."

She lent him her arm as he walked faintly to his room, and as he turned
round and stooped to kiss her hand, she felt it wet with many tears.

They went home next day, and soon after received a note from Lady De
Vayne, informing them that Arthur was worse, and that they intended
removing for some time to a seat of his in Scotland; after which they
meant to travel on the Continent for another year, if his health
permitted it. "But," she said, "I fear he has had a relapse, and his
state is very precarious. Dear friends, think of us sometimes, and let
us hope to meet again in happier days."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

MEMORY THE BOOK OF GOD.

"At Trompyngtoun, nat fer fra Cantebrigg,
Ther goth a brook, and over that a brigge,
Upon the whiche brook then stant a melle;
_And this is verray sothe that I you telle_."
Chaucer, _The Reeve's Tale_.

There is little which admits of external record in Julian's life at this
period of his university career. It was the usual uneventful, quiet
life of a studious Camford undergraduate. Happy it was beyond any other
time, except perhaps a few vernal days of boyhood, but it was unmarked
by any incidents. He read, and rowed, and went to lectures, and worked
at classics, mathematics, and philosophy, and dropped in sometimes to a
debate or a private-business squabble at the Union, and played racquets,
fives, and football, and talked eagerly in hall and men's rooms over the
exciting topics of the day, and occasionally went to wine or to
breakfast with a don, and, (absorbed in some grand old poet or
historian), lingered by his lamp over the lettered page from chapel-time
till the grey dawn, when he would retire to pure and refreshful sleep,
humming a tune out of very cheerfulness.

Happy days, happy friendships, happy study, happy recreation, happy
exemption from the cares of life! The bright visions of a scholar, the
bright hilarity of a youth, the bright acquaintanceship with many united
by a brotherly bond within those grey walls, were so many mingled
influences that ran together "like warp and woof" in the web of a
singularly enviable life. And every day he felt that he was knowing
more, and acquiring a strength and power which should fit him hereafter
for the more toilsome business and sterner struggles of common life.
Well may old Cowley exclaim--

"O pulerae sine luxes aedes, vitaeque decore
Splendida paupertas ingenuusque pudor!"

All the re