"What's that, Katie?" she cried, stopping her work for a moment. "A coach coming up from Magdalen Bridge. I think it is a cricketing party coming home." "Oh, let me see," and she tripped across to the window, bonnet in hand, and stood beside her cousin. And, then, sure enough, a coach covered with cricketers returning from a match drove past the window. The young ladies looked out at first with great curiosity; but, suddenly finding themselves the mark for a whole coach load of male eyes, shrank back a little before the cricketers had passed on towards the "Mitre." As the coach passed out of sight, Mary gave a pretty toss of her head, and said-- "Well, they don't want for assurance, at any rate. I think they needn't have stared so." "It was our fault," said Katie; "we shouldn't have been at the window. Besides, you know you are to be a lady-in-waiting on Henrietta Maria up here, and of course you must get used to being stared at." "Oh yes, but that was to be by young gentlemen wounded in the wars, in lace ruffles, as one sees them in pictures. That's a very different thing from young gentlemen in flannel trousers and straw hats, driving up the High street on coaches. I declare one of them had the impudence to bow as if he knew you." "So he does. That was my cousin." "Your cousin! Ah, I remember. Then he must be my cousin, too." "No, not at all. He is no relation of yours." "Well I sha'n't break my heart. But is he a good partner?" "I should say, yes. But I hardly know. We used to be a great deal together as children, but papa has been such an invalid lately." "Ah, I wonder how uncle is getting on at the Vice-Chancellor's. Look, it is past eight by St. Mary's. When were we to go?" "We were asked for nine." "Then we must go and dress. Will it be very slow and stiff, Katie? I wish we were going to something not quite so grand." "You'll find it very pleasant, I dare say." "There won't be any dancing, though, I know, will there?" "No; I should think certainly not." "Dear me! I hope there will be some young men there--I shall be so shy, I know, if there are nothing but wise people. How do you talk to a Regius Professor, Katie? It must be awful." "He will probably be at least as uncomfortable as you, dear," said Miss Winter, laughing, and rising from the window; "let us go and dress." "Shall I wear my best gown?--What shall I put in my hair?" At this moment the door opened, and the maid-servant introduced Mr. Brown. It was the St. Ambrose drag which had passed along shortly before, bearing the eleven home from a triumphant match. As they came over Magdalen Bridge, Drysdale, who had returned to Oxford as a private gentleman after his late catastrophe, which he had managed to keep a secret from his guardian, and was occupying his usual place on the box, called out--