Mr. Ross was a very sound lawyer, but he had not travelled much, nor had he heard many sermons other than those of his friend the Vicar. The Vicar smiled, and continued his explanations to Mrs. Ross of certain allusions to Oxford celebrities made by the preacher. Frank also, to whom his father appealed, had only a commonplace comment to make. His studies not having been philosophical, he could not go into raptures over every utterance of the new Plato. The church was even more crowded, if that were possible, in the afternoon, in spite of the awkwardness of the hour (two o’clock) and the heat of the day. And what an assemblage of famous men was present! Gladstone and Tyndall, Lord Selborne and Huxley, Forster and Sir Stafford Northcote, Sir William Harcourt and the Oxford Conservative member, all sitting amicably side by side, listening to one of those eloquent attacks on men of science which satisfy and please those for whom they are not needed, and only amuse those whom they are intended to convince. After the sermon the Vicar and Mr. Ross betook themselves to the Union, to read the papers over a cup of coffee; and about a quarter to five Frank started with his mother, sister, and Rose, to Magdalen Chapel. Tickets had been, of course, difficult to get, and with all his exertions he had only been able to secure two for the choir, and two for the ante-chapel. The two former Mrs. Ross and Mary took, without any resistance, for they knew that Rose would be happier to be with Frank. How many husbands and wives come back in after-years to Oxford, to go over again all the old days, to revisit all the old spots, to find one particular tree the same, save, like themselves, a little older; to sit in the same chapel, and listen perhaps to the very same anthem they had listened to when they were boy and girl, sung by different voices, but for them the same; to pass the same surly porter, whose favour can only be purchased; to see the same placid gardener tidying up the velvet grass under the grey walls; to hear the same bells ringing; and, with it all, to feel as young as ever! Frank and Rose, as they sat in the dim ante-chapel, under the great brown window that sheds such a strange light over all, thought neither of the past, for that was eclipsed, nor of the future, for that was uncertain, but just lived in the present. And if he did hold her hand during most of the service, nobody saw him, and therefore nobody’s feelings were outraged. Another happy pair emerged from another dim corner of the ante-chapel, when the service was over--Crawford and the little lady, who doubtless has not been forgotten, best known by the title “Blue-eyes.” She, too, had in attendance on her a mother and sister; and they, too, had been sitting in the choir. So that altogether, when the introductions took place in the cloisters, all mentally agreed that the party was a most symmetrical one--two mothers, two sisters, and two pairs of lovers.