Jack made a wry face. Study was pleasant to him up to a certain point, but he lacked the courage to present himself for the ordeal of Responsions and Determinations. He was ready enough to learn, but shrank from the thought of becoming in any sort a teacher; and, moreover, in the absence of Leofric he had been taking something of a holiday himself, and the woods and streams had of late seen more of him than the schools and lecture-rooms. "I could not travel away like thee, Leofric," he said, apologetically, "but methought a holiday would be no such bad thing. What says the wise old adage? All work and no play makes Jack a dullard." Leofric had no mind to chide his friend and comrade, albeit he thought it would have been wiser had Jack postponed his holiday till he had passed the ordeal of Determinations. "Now that thou art back, I will study might and main, and next year will dispute with thee, good friend, so that men shall flock to hear us;" and Jack laughed aloud in the happiness of his heart, knowing that many long months had to pass by ere he would be called upon to stand up and maintain a thesis or proposition in the teeth of his opponent's arguments, and in the hearing of all who chose to come and listen. He had listened with admiration and delight to Leofric when he had won his academic spurs (if the term can be permitted), and so delighted was he at his friend's prowess in argument, that he had many times dashed out into the streets to invite the passers-by to come in and hear the candidate for bachelorhood holding his own so gallantly and brilliantly. Jack's loving admiration was very sweet to Leofric, who felt he had in him a true brother. This fraternal welcome was further displayed in the simple preparations made for his return--the fresh rushes upon the floor, the brightening up of the familiar chamber, the simple luxuries set out upon the little table, and the flowers filling the empty hearth. Leofric looked round with brightening eyes, delighted to find himself once more in this home-like place. Tiny indeed did it appear after the spacious apartments of Kenilworth; and yet it had the charm of being his own--here he was no guest, no hireling, but a joint-owner of the primitive abode. Here he could keep his few precious books, study in quietness, and be secure from interruption. "Ah, it is good to be at home once more; I want no better home than this!" he cried. "And now, whilst we set to upon this excellent dinner, tell me all that has betided in Oxford since I left. How goes it with all our friends--and foes? Has aught been heard of Tito Balzani or Roger de Horn? And has Hugh been molested in any wise by them? But, indeed, that was a matter almost forgotten before I left the place."