‘Oh, then, I am really fining Lord Gilderdale for your delinquencies; this is a very fine situation, Mr. Arlington,’ said the Proctor, with a nearer approach to geniality than we had hitherto seen. ‘Well, sir, hardly that,’ I put in; ‘you see all three of us really are expecting remittances of our own as we told you this morning, but as Lord Gilderdale’s arrived before any of ours he very kindly lent us three pounds.’ ‘Very well then, gentlemen,’ said the Proctor, ‘I don’t know that this arrangement is quite regular, or that it would exactly meet with the approval of the Vice-Chancellor, but after all you have produced the amount of your fines, and it is no business of mine to enquire how you obtained that amount. I am sorry to say that I believed at first that your slight unpunctuality was due to disrespect, and that you were trying to do what I believe the present generation would call “pulling my leg” over these cheques, but I see that I misjudged you, and shall ask you to bring the money at ten to-morrow. Good morning, Mr. Arlington; good morning, gentlemen, good morning,’ and so saying the little man collapsed into his arm-chair, while we departed on our way more or less rejoicing. Freddy, to whom we communicated the result of the interview, soothed our consciences with the very plausible, if somewhat immoral, argument: ‘It don’t do to give that sort of bird too much truth all in a lump, he ain’t accustomed to it; besides, if you start bringin’ him up on it, he’ll always expect it.’ On our return to 129 St. Aldate’s we took Squiff to task severely for daring to dispose of his own silver candlesticks on the previous day; as Freddy remarked, ‘What are things coming to when a man can do as he likes with his own property?’ ‘I know where things are going to,’ responded Squiff, ‘and that is to Ranger’s in Beerage Street, I’ve had a breezy time lately; thank heaven term is nearly over.’ ‘Ditto, ditto,’ remarked the Pilot mournfully; ‘if one looks back at the end of any term, there always seem to be so many things which one might have done and hasn’t; and such a lot of entirely unnecessary things which have come off most successfully. When I remember that, out of 751 allotted pages of Cook’s Commentary on Habakkuk, I have read exactly 57, the hollowness of life comes upon me with crushing reality.’ ‘Poor old Pilot,’ laughed Squiff, ‘he’s got “the recollections” badly.’ ‘I shall shortly have “the Collections” much worse,’ replied the Pilot. ‘Thank goodness,’ remarked Reggie fervently, ‘that terminal reports are not sent home to our “parents or guardians” from this University; what awful shocks they’d get.’ ‘A printed record of gate-sconces and fines during residence should be given to every one on their departure, and the number of windows broken by the future B.A. should be certified by the Provost,’ I said.