th extended hand.

'A species of bracket,' he remarked, smiling benevolently, 'which no
algebraic process will remove. Let us hope it signifies that you and
Buckland will work through life shoulder to shoulder in the field of
geology. What did Professor Gale give you?'

Before he could reply, Peak had to exchange greetings with Mrs
Warricombe and her daughter. Only once hitherto had he met them. Six
months ago he had gone out with Buckland to the country-house and
passed an afternoon there, making at the time no very favourable
impression on his hostess. He was not of the young men who easily
insinuate themselves into ladies' affections: his exterior was against
him, and he seemed too conscious of his disadvantages in that
particular. Mrs. Warricombe found it difficult to shape a few civil
phrases for the acceptance of the saturnine student. Sidwell, repelled
and in a measure alarmed by his bilious countenance, could do no more
than grant him her delicately gloved fingers. Peak, for his part, had
nothing to say. He did not even affect an interest in these persons,
and turned his eyes to follow the withdrawing Earwaker. Mr. Warricombe,
however, had found topic for discourse in the prize volume; he began to
comment on the excellence of certain sections of the book.

'Do you go home?' interrupted Buckland, addressing the question to his
rival. 'Or do you stay in Kingsmill until the First B.A.?'

'I shall go home,' replied Peak, moving uneasily.

'Perhaps we may have the pleasure of seeing you at Thornhaw when you
are up again for the examination?' said Mrs. Warricombe, with faltering
tongue.

'I'm afraid I shan't be able to come, thank you,' was the awkward
response.

Buckland's voice came to the relief.

'I daresay I may look in upon you at your torture. Good luck, old
fellow! If we don't see each other again, write to me at Trinity before
the end of the year.'

As soon as she was sufficiently remote, Mrs. Warricombe ejaculated in a
subdued voice of irritation:

'Such a very unprepossessing young man I never met! He seems to have no
breeding whatever.'

'Overweighted with brains,' replied her husband; adding to himself,
'and by no means so with money, I fear.'

Opportunity at length offering, Mrs. Warricombe stepped into the circle
irradiated by Bruno Chilvers; her husband and Sidwell pressed after.
Buckland, with an exclamation of disgust, went off to criticise the
hero among a group of his particular fri