He would probably awake from it, the doctor who had been called in said, not very much the worse for the carouse, and unconscious--quite unconscious--of what had happened. What would he do when he awoke? Lucy was pondering this question in her mind all the time she was in for her exam., when she ought to have been occupied with the questions on the paper before her. She hadn't answered it when she got back to Newnham. She had only gone back to pick up some things she needed and to get her _exeat_, or go through the ceremony that takes the place of an _exeat_ at a college for women. She had to say good-bye to two or three of the girls who were going down; some were going down altogether, and their paths were never likely to cross again. Among these last was Pamela Gwatkin. She was going down, broken in health and spirit, and she had no present intention of coming up to Newnham again. She was up and dressed when Lucy went into her room to say good-bye. She was sitting at her old place at the table, tearing up some papers. She had torn up a lot already, and they were lying in a heap by her side, and Maria Stubbs was on the floor packing her books. Pamela looked up when Lucy came into the room. 'Well?' she said, with a large look of scorn in her eyes that made Lucy's cowardly little heart sink into her shoes. 'Well?' It wasn't very much to say, but a great deal can be got into a word of such varied meaning. Lucy saw in a moment that Pamela knew all. 'I don't know what you mean,' Lucy said with some spirit. 'No,' said Pamela scornfully; 'I suppose not. You have not seen him then?' 'Seen him?' Lucy exclaimed, flushing scarlet, and her eyes smarting with tears of anger and humiliation. 'I never intend to see him again! His own people are here.' 'What has that got to do with it?' said Maria, sitting down on the floor in the middle of a heap of books. 'Everything. He doesn't want me if he has got his people.' Lucy was thinking of Wyatt Edgell's mother. She had been haunted by her pale patrician face all through the exam. 'I don't see that,' Maria said hotly. 'He will want you more. You ought to stand between him and them, and see they are not too hard upon him. I think you ought to have gone to his mother at once, and told her everything.' 'I?' Lucy gasped--'I?' 'Yes, you. Who else should take his part at a time like this? Oh, you are a poor coward! You are not half good enough for him!' The tears were in her eyes as she spoke; she had to put up her hand and dash them off her hideous pale lashes. She looked as if she would have liked to have taken Lucy in her strong arms and shaken her. 'I'm afraid I am a coward,' Lucy said humbly; and then she began to cry.