es--I think it likely,' Godwin answered, with an absent glance this
way and that.

'In any case,' pursued the other, 'you'll be there presently for First
B.A. Honours. Try to look in at my rooms, will you? I should be
delighted to see you. Most of my day is spent in the romantic locality
of Rotherhithe, but I get home about five o'clock, as a rule. Let me
give you a card.'

'Thank you.'

'I daresay we shall meet somewhere about here before then. Of course
you are reading hard, and haven't much leisure. I'm an idle dog,
unfortunately. I should like to work, but I don't quite know what at. I
suppose this is a transition time with me.'

Godwin tried to discover the implication of this remark. Had it any
reference to Miss Janet Moxey? Whilst he stood in embarrassed silence,
Christian looked about with a peculiar smile, and seemed on the point
of indulging in further self-revelation; but Godwin of a sudden held
out his hand for good-bye, and with friendly smiles they parted.

Peak was older than his years, and he saw in Christian one who might
prove a very congenial associate, did but circumstances favour their
intercourse. That was not very likely to happen, but the meeting at all
events turned his thoughts to London once more.

His attempts to 'read' were still unfruitful. For one thing, the stress
and excitement of the Whitelaw examinations had wearied him; it was
characteristic of the educational system in which he had become
involved that studious effort should be called for immediately after
that frenzy of college competition. He ought now to have been
'sweating' at his London subjects. Instead of that, he procured works
of general literature from a Twybridge library, and shut himself up
with them in the garret bedroom.

A letter from Mr. Gunnery informed him that the writer would be home in
a day or two. This return took place late one evening, and on the
morrow Godwin set forth to visit his friend. On reaching the house, he
learnt that Mr. Gunnery had suffered an accident which threatened
serious results. Walking barefoot in his bedroom the night before, he
had stepped upon the point of a large nail, and was now prostrate,
enduring much pain. Two days elapsed before Godwin could be admitted;
he then found the old man a mere shadow of his familiar
self--bloodless, hollow-eyed.

'This is the kind of practical joke that Fate likes to play upon us!'
the sufferer growled in a harsh, quaking voice, his countenanc