s eyes.

'What was that?' came from the son, with abrupt indifference.

'For shame, Buckland!'

'What do I care for Caesar's privileges? We can't burden our minds with
that antiquated rubbish nowadays. You would despise it yourself,
father, if it hadn't got packed into your head when you were young.'

The parent raised his eyebrows in a bantering smile.

'I have lived to hear classical learning called antiquated rubbish.
Well, well!--Ha! there is Professor Gale.'

The Professor of Geology, a tall man, who strode over the pavement as
if he were among granite hills, caught sight of the party and
approached. His greeting was that of a familiar friend; he addressed
young Warricombe and his sister by their Christian names, and inquired
after certain younger members of the household. Mr Warricombe,
regarding him with a look of repressed eagerness, laid a hand on his
arm, and spoke in the subdued voice of one who has important news to
communicate.

'If I am not much mistaken, I have chanced on a new species of
_homalonotus_!'

'Indeed!--not in your kitchen garden, I presume?'

'Hardly. Dr Pollock sent me a box of specimens the other day'--

Buckland saw with annoyance the likelihood of prolonged discussion.

'I don't know whether you care to remain standing all the afternoon,'
he said to his mother. 'At this rate we certainly shan't get seats.'

'We will walk on, Martin,' said the lady, glancing at her husband.

'We come! we come!' cried the Professor, with a wave of his arm.

The palaeontological talk continued as far as the entrance of the
assembly hall. The zest with which Mr. Warricombe spoke of his
discovery never led him to raise his voice above the suave, mellow
note, touched with humour, which expressed a modest assurance. Mr Gale
was distinguished by a blunter mode of speech; he discoursed with
open-air vigour, making use now and then of a racy colloquialism which
the other would hardly have permitted himself.

As young Warricombe had foreseen, the seats obtainable were none too
advantageous; only on one of the highest rows of the amphitheatre could
they at length establish themselves.

'Buckland will enjoy the more attention when he marches down to take
his prizes,' observed the father. 'He must sit at the end here, that he
mayn't have a struggle to get out.'

'Don't, Martin, don't!' urged his wife, considerately.

'Oh, it doesn't affect me,' said Buckland, with a laugh.

'I feel pretty sure I