£ _s._ _d._ Boat Club 3 10 0 Cricket Club 2 10 0 Paul’s Debating Society 0 2 6 Union Society 1 5 0 Rifle Corps, including Band-Subscriptions and Uniform 5 0 0 There is no need to enter into Frank’s charitable subscriptions. They were neither large nor small, but what they were, were given with pleasure. About this time also came in the valuation of his rooms, amounting to 30_l._ Our freshman is now, therefore, fairly started on his career. CHAPTER IV. THE EIGHTS. April slipped away, and it was the evening of the 30th. Frank had dined in Hall; he had been to all his lectures that morning. He knew the work for the next day. There was no need, therefore, he thought, for further work. Turning out of the Lodge-gates, hardly knowing where he was going, he strolled into the High; and just by Spiers’ he met a new acquaintance--Morton, of Magdalen. “Where are you off, Ross?” he asked. “Don’t know,” answered Frank; “nowhere particular.” The fact is, Frank had been drifting of late into these evening rambles to “nowhere particular.” And a good deal of time they occupied too. “You’d better come down to my rooms. I’ve got one or two fellows coming in for a hand at whist.” Frank, not being the impossible model young man of the story-books, did not resist the invitation, but, linking his arm into Morton’s, went off to Magdalen. The April night was not so warm that a fire was not pleasant. Morton’s rooms were in the old quad, looking out towards the new buildings and the deer-park. The curtains were drawn and the lights burning. Several little tables were laid with dessert, and one cleared in the centre of the room, with packs of cards upon it. There were about a dozen men present. Dessert over, cards began; but it was not whist. Everybody voted that slow. Frank himself thought that he never had played so enticing a game as loo. When he knocked in that night at five minutes to twelve, he fancied the porter eyed him suspiciously and knew that he had returned _minus_ a few pounds and _plus_ a racking headache. His suspicions were right. Few read more rightly or more quickly the character and career of the undergraduates than the porters who open to them nightly. But, in spite of his headache, Frank managed to be up at four o’clock next morning. He had accepted Morton’s invitation to breakfast at six, after hearing the choir sing the May-Morning Hymn on the college tower. George, the porter, as he opened the Lodge-gates to Frank and others, thought, in spite of his pale face, that he at least could not have been up to much mischief last night, or he would not have been up so early after it. And George, usually infallible, began to retract his last night’s opinion.