omen are not
in his line, and he will like a quiet talk with me. Now, what do you
say to that, Howard?"

"Well, if Miss Maud will put up with me," said Howard, "we will stroll
about, and we might go to King's Chapel together. I should like to show
her that, and we will go to see Monica Graves, and get some tea there."

"Give Monica my love," said Mr. Sandys, "and make what excuses you can.
Better tell her the truth for once! I will try to look in upon her
before I go."

Maud assented very eagerly and gratefully. They walked together to the
Library, and Mr. Sandys bolted in like a rabbit into its hole. Howard
was alone with her.

She was very different, he thought, from what she had seemed that first
night. She was alert, smiling, delighted with everything and everybody
about the place. "I think it is all simply enchanting!" she said; "only
it makes me long to go to Newnham. I think men do have a better time
than women; and, what is more, no one here seems to have anything
whatever to do!"

"That's only our unselfishness," said Howard. "We get no credit! Think
of all the piles of papers that are accumulating on my table. The other
day I entertained with all the virtue and self-sacrifice at my command
a party of working-men from the East end of London at luncheon in my
rooms, and took them round afterwards. They knew far more than I did
about the place, and I cut a very poor figure. At the end the
Secretary, meaning to be very kind to me, said that he was glad to have
seen a glimpse of the cultured life. 'It is very beautiful and
distinguished,' he added, 'but we of the democracy shall not allow it
to continue. It is always said that the Dons have nothing to do but to
read and sip their wine, and I am glad to see it all for myself. To
think of all these endowments being used like this! Not but what we are
very grateful to you for your kindness!'"

They strolled about. Cambridge is not a place that puts its
characteristic beauties in the forefront. Some of the most charming
things lurk unsuspected beyond dark entries and behind sombre walls.
They penetrated little mouldering courts; they looked into dim and
stately halls and chapels; they stood long on the bridge of Clare,
gazing at that incomparable front, with all the bowery gardens and
willow-shaded walks, like Camelot, beside the slow, terraced stream.

It was a tortured kind of delight for Howard to feel the girl beside
him; but she showed no wish to talk int