towards becoming one is
to behave like a gentleman."

I shook his hand to show that I understood, for he wanted neither
promises nor protestations, and if I had been able to be sentimental he
would have left the room without listening to me.

He didn't say much, but what he did say was beautifully simple, and on
leaving him I felt very solemn and, since I must tell the truth, very
important. The idea of having a bank account was one which did not
lose its glamour for several days. There was something about my first
cheque-book which pleased me immensely, for I had not been brought up
in a nest of millionaires, and am glad to confess that until I went to
Oxford the possibilities attached to a five-pound note were almost
without limit.

Fred Foster--who had been staying with me--and I parted at Oxford
railway-station without falling on each other's necks, but although we
did not cause any further obstruction on a platform already far too
crowded, we understood that the friendship which had prospered during
so many years at school was not going to be interrupted because he had
got a scholarship at Oriel while I was an exhibitioner of St.
Cuthbert's.

I began by losing my luggage, which was exactly the way some people
would have expected me to begin, and when I arrived at the college
lodge I must have looked as if I had come to spend a Saturday to Monday
visit. One miserable bag was all I possessed, and the porter viewed
me, as I thought, with suspicion. He was a grumpy old person, and when
I told him that I had lost my luggage he grunted, "Gentlemen do,
especially when they're fresh," which I thought very fair cheek on his
part, though I did not feel at that moment like telling him so.

Then having said that my name was Marten, he hunted in a list and told
a man to take my bag to Number VII. staircase in the back quadrangle.
I followed, feeling rather dejected, and I cannot say that the first
sight of my rooms tended to raise my spirits. They were small and
dismal, the window opened on to a balustrade which, if it prevented me
from falling into the quadrangle, also managed to shut out both light
and air. The furniture can be described correctly by the word
adequate; there were some chairs and a table, college furniture for
which I was privileged to pay rent. The chairs looked as if nothing
could ever wear them out or make them look different. They had been
built to defy time and ill-usage.

I went into my