He looked at his watch, and wondered how he was to exist till eight o'clock, when the night express left for Edinburgh. He scarcely heard the congratulations that were heaped upon him by one and another of his friends, so eager was he to hear what she would say. The examination was over now--well over. He was free for the first time to give the reins to his thoughts, and to follow whithersoever they beckoned; and a wild dance they led him, over giddy heights that made his brain reel and his pulse leap high with infinite longing. The dusty streets might have been Elysian fields for all he knew; in so far as he saw outward things at all, he saw them through a rose-hued medium of love. Introspection was almost dead within him--almost, but not quite--enough remained to fill him with intensest gratitude that this complete abandonment should have come to him. "Oh let the solid ground not fail beneath my feet, Before my life has found what some have found so sweet!" How often he had uttered those words, scarcely daring to hope that his prayer would be granted; and now he had found what he longed for, and surely no man before had ever found it so sweet. "Holloa! cutting old friends already?" said a merry voice in his ear. "Some people are very quickly blinded by success." "Why, Melville, what brings you here?" "I was on my way to the university to find out how many medals you have got. Your face proclaims four at least." "I am sorry it is so deceptive. I have only got one." "Anatomy?" "Anatomy." "Played! Anything else?" "No. A second class in chemistry." "And that's nothing? We have grown very high and mighty all of a sudden. Who's got the medal in physiology?" "A woman!" "Name?" "Miss--Maclean, I think;" and Dudley was amazed to find himself blushing. "When do you go down?" "To-night." "That's right! But look here, dear boy. Take a word of advice with you. Keep out of the way of the _siren_!" "You go to----!" Dudley stopped short, but his eyes flashed fire. "It's a curious thing," he observed cynically, "how a man can go through half his life without learning to hold his tongue about his private affairs." Melville raised his eyebrows, and whistled a few notes of a popular music-hall ditty. For about a hundred yards the two walked on in silence. Then Ralph put his hand in his friend's arm. "Don't talk to me about it, Jack," he said, "there's a good fellow, but I have been the most confounded snob that ever lived." Nothing more was said till they parted at the street corner, and then Melville stood and watched his friend out of sight. "Another good man gone wrong!" he observed philosophically; and, shrugging his shoulders, he made his way back to the hospital. The long day and the interminable night were over. "Even an Eastern Counties train Must needs come in at last."