'Then I don't understand it,' Miss Stubbs said stiffly. 'Oh, you poor creature!' Lucy said with a weak attempt at a laugh, and her cheeks scarlet. 'I am only encouraging him for his own good. I have only told him he may work; he is sure to take a high place, but he would not do anything if I did not encourage him. Think: all his life depends upon it. You would do the same if you were in my place.' Miss Stubbs did not say she wouldn't, but she blushed beneath her freckles, and her eyes softened beneath the red lashes. There were depths in her eyes that Lucy had never seen in them before, and she was looking at Maria sharply--unfathomed depths, for nobody had tested the depths and height of Maria's love. Perhaps a brave man, who does not look on the outward appearance, or who prefers red hair, may some day, and he will have no cause for regret. 'And what will happen when--when the work is done, and he has won the high place?' Maria asked softly. She was thinking how she would love above all things to fire a man who loved her with ambitions. She would fill him with the noblest ambitions, and when he had climbed the ladder, when he had realized all his dreams, she would not cheat him of his reward. 'And what then?' she repeated, when she found Lucy did not answer. 'Oh, I don't know. I have not made up my mind. Whatever happened, it would be a great thing for him to have done the work--to have taken his degree, that could never be recalled. I am sure I have done right--in--in encouraging him, as you term it.' 'I think it would be base--and mean--and unworthy--an unwomanly thing to throw him over in the end!' Maria said, with a little catch in her voice. She couldn't find adjectives strong enough, and she had to pause between each. Wyatt Edgell went back to his rooms across the court with great swinging strides, and he climbed the stairs three at a time. He met the Senior Tutor coming out of his rooms at the top of the stairs, and the little snatch of a love-song he was singing died on his lips. Still, his lips were smiling, and his eyes were shining, and his face was earnest and set. It was the face of a man who was going to do something--who was going to win. 'How have you done?' the Tutor asked, stopping him. He asked it with a smile; he hadn't any doubt about how he had done. 'Not so well as I could have wished, sir. I shall do better in the next part.' There are two 'parts' in the Mathematical Tripos. If a man gets through Part I. he is allowed to proceed farther; he is allowed to go in for Honours. There could be no doubt about Wyatt Edgell being 'through' in the 'first part.' He was quite safe in going back to work for Honours. There is a week between the end of one examination and the beginning of another. There is time to pick one's self up and prepare afresh for the fight--the real fight this time. Wyatt Edgell went back to his room and 'sported' his oak. It was open just for a minute after Hall, and Eric Gwatkin came in.