the same result. In the meantime, they were both 'going in'
for the First B.A.; he had no fear of failure, but it might easily
happen that Chilvers would achieve higher distinction. With an eye to
awards that might be won--substantial cash-annuities--he was reading
for Honours; but it seemed doubtful whether he could present himself,
as the second examination was held only in London. Chilvers would of
course be an Honours candidate. He would smile--confound him!--at an
objection on the score of the necessary journey to London. Better to
refrain altogether than again to see Chilvers come out ahead. General
surprise would naturally be excited, questions asked on all hands. How
would it sound: 'I simply couldn't afford to go up'--?

At this point of the meditation he had reached his lodgings; he
admitted himself with a latch-key, turned into his murky sitting-room,
and sat down.

The table was laid for tea, as usual. Though he might have gone to
Twybridge this evening, he had preferred to stay overnight, for an odd
reason. At a theatre in Kingsmill a London company, headed by an
actress of some distinction, was to perform _Romeo and Juliet_, and he
purposed granting himself this indulgence before leaving the town. The
plan was made when his eye fell upon the advertisement, a few days ago.
He then believed it probable that an evening at the theatre would
appropriately follow upon a day of victory. His interest in the
performance had collapsed, but he did not care to alter his
arrangements.

The landlady came in bearing the tea-pot. He wanted nothing, yet could
not exert himself to say so.

But he was losing sight of a menace more formidable than defeat by
Chilvers. What was it his blackguard uncle had said? Had the fellow
really threatened to start an eating-house opposite the College, and
flare his name upon a placard? 'Peak's Dining and Refreshment
Rooms'--merciful heavens!

Again the mood of laughter came upon him. Why, here was a solution of
all difficulties, as simple as unanticipated. If indeed that awful
thing came to pass, farewell to Whitelaw! What possibility of pursuing
his studies when every class-companion, every Professor,--nay, the very
porters,--had become aware that he was nephew to the man who supplied
meals over the way? Moral philosophy had no prophylactic against an
ordeal such as this. Could the most insignificant lad attending
lectures afford to disregard such an occasion of ridicule and contemp