“The Lord knows,” said Reggie. “I was considered remarkably bright for my age at one time.” “Long ago?” “Ages ago. I don’t suppose I’ve been considered bright for the last six years. Oh, by the way, they’ve put me into the Pitt.” “How very imprudent of them!” “Yes. There was a young man in the Pitt.” “Well?” “That’s all. It’s me, you know.” Ealing got up and stretched slowly and luxuriously. “I must go and change. I believe one oughtn’t to sit in wet things. But if one does it frequently enough, it doesn’t seem to hurt one, and the same remark applies to muffins.” “I shall try sitting in a muffin,” said Reggie thoughtfully. “I never thought of it before.” “Do. Are you going into Hall to-night?” “Yes, unless you ask me to dinner.” “I have no intention whatever of doing that,” said Ealing. “Then we’ll both go into Hall. I propose to drink champagne out of a silver mug to make up for the tea out of a glass.” “‘Not what I wish but what I want,’ as the Babe said the other day when he ordered six pairs of silk pyjamas.” “Oh, the Babe has his points,” said Reggie. Reggie’s rooms looked out on to a small court, bounded on two sides by the new college buildings, on one by that pellucid river, from which, as Wordsworth might have said, “Cambridge has borrowed its name,” and on the other by four or five big elm-trees. Beyond these lay the back lawn, growing a little rank just now with autumn rains, and above that the main buildings of the college, and the Chapel, which is quite worth describing even to the length of four sides of that smaller size of note-paper, which is found so eminently convenient a basis for the purpose of writing letters to relations. His two rooms were on the third floor, opening the one into the other, and like all college rooms, were very thoughtfully supplied with an outer door which could only be opened from the inside, and by means of which the laborious student can shut himself off from sight and sound of the busy world around. During Reggie’s short stay at Cambridge it had, as far as he knew, only been used once, and on that occasion a playful friend, mistaking its real use, had shut him out, having previously ascertained that he had lost the key. This feat has at least the merit of simplicity, and it appears to lose none of its fascination however constantly repeated.