"Oh, Buller," Vaughan interposed, "really, you mustn't put such words into the Dean's mouth!" "Well, I don't quite remember the old boy's lingo, but, at any rate, the Dean thought Crabbe was making a fool of himself. 'I think I can settle it,' says I to the Dean. 'I wish you would,' said the Dean; so off I go to Crabbe's rooms. He came in just as I got there; I wish you could have seen him--a frock-coat, top-hat, flower in his button-hole, his hair plastered down. And only last year, it was, that he got up as a Socialist, with a red silk handkerchief in his hat! But now he shook hands with me up in the air; was most affable and condescending; assured me he was glad to see his old pals--especially friends from London. Oxford people were very well in their way, but narrow, and rather donnish. Didn't I notice it in coming from London? "Well, this was almost too much from Crabbe, but I thought it would be more sport to draw him out a bit. So we got to talking; I didn't let on I knew he was engaged, but after a bit I began to talk about marriage and love and all that in a general sort of way. Old Crabbe swallows it all, talks a lot of literary stuff. 'Fall in love, Buller,' says he, 'fall in love, and live! Let me read you what thing-a-majig says,' and he gets down a book--who did you say he was? Browning, yes, that's the man--he gets down a book of Browning's and begins to read--you ought to have seen him, his face got pink; and at the end he says, with a proud smile, as if the poem was all about him, 'Isn't that ripping, Buller, isn't that brave, isn't that the way to take life!' "'Do you mind if I smoke?' said I. "'Smoke? Oh, do certainly,' and Crabbe sits down looking rather foolish. But after a moment, he says in an easy sort of way, 'Ah, I meant to ask you about all the chaps in London--getting on all right? any of them married?' "'Married!' says I, 'O Lord, no; _they_ don't want to dish themselves.' "'Dish themselves,' says Crabbe, 'why, what do you mean?' "'I mean what I say; if you get married without any money, you're dished, that's all--I mean practical people, who want to get on.' "Then Crabbe began to talk big; one shouldn't care only for success--it might be practical, perhaps, but he did not mean to sacrifice the greatest thing in life for money. "'The greatest thing in life--what's that?'" Buller laughed so loudly at this part of his story, that the other people in the carriage began to stare at him and Vaughan. So he went on in a lower whisper. "'What's that?' says I. "'I mean,' says Crabbe, 'why, what I have been talking about.' "'Well, what is it?' "'What I was saying a little while ago.' "'But you talked too fast--I couldn't catch it; give us the tip, out with it.' "'I mean love, passion,' says he. "'What? say it again.' "'Well, I mean--and it's always said that love--the poets--' "'The who?' "'The poets.'" Again Buller laughed out loud.