"Oh yes!" she replied, apparently quoting from Pinnock; "it's the capital of Cambridgeshire." "Did you never hear any thing else about it?" rejoined I. "It's famous for its university, isn't it?" said she, seemingly from the same source. "On this hint I spake," and told her how that I had been educated at Cambridge, and how that, after three years of intense study, I had received the greatest honour the university had to bestow--_a plucking_. "Yes," said I, my face radiant with a triumphant expression--"I was actually plucked." "I am sure you were, you dear, clever thing!" cried she, throwing her arms round my neck. We were married at Monmouth, and I took my bride straight to London. I own I was a little desirous of showing Emily Jobson, or rather Emily Swetter, that there was a young lady in the world quite as pretty as herself, and with better taste. Swetter and his wife called on us as soon as he heard we were in town; and shortly afterwards we dined with them at their new house in Torrington Square. Among the guests was Grindham--_my_ Grindham, but how changed! He had become tutor of his college, and had expanded into the most perfect specimen of the university don I ever beheld. He was positively swelling with importance. So inordinately conspicuous, indeed, was his air of self-appreciation, that even my little Caroline noticed it; and I heard her ask Mrs Swetter who and what he was. "He took the very highest honours at Cambridge," said she in reply. Caroline smiled, and seemed to think him quite justified in looking as important as he did. The cloth was removed. Caroline was sitting by Grindham's side. She had spoken little during dinner-time; but I had noticed that several times she had seemed fidgetty, as though she ought to say something to her neighbour. Now my wife had at that time a bad habit of speaking in a very loud voice--in consequence of a deaf father, and of the little society she had seen. The conversation, accordingly, had no sooner stopped (as is its wont) with a dead pause, than she turned to Grindham, and said in a tone of appalling distinctness-- "Mr Grindham, _were you ever plucked_?" Had a trumpet been suddenly blown close to Grindham's ear, he could not have looked more thoroughly taken aback. Caroline repeated her words with yet more frightful clearness-- "_I understand that you were plucked at Cambridge._" Grindham's countenance grew purple; we had a room full of university men, and the insulting speech was overheard by all. There was a universal stare and stir; and Mrs Swetter seemed to be saying to herself, "what wild beast have I got here!" Caroline, perceiving she had done something very much amiss, got frightened, and bent over her plate during the rest of dinner. When the gentlemen came to the drawing-room, Mrs Swetter and she were sitting together. They had been talking, and Caroline's face was very red. Our eyes met: her look was full of contempt.