"Yes," said Monica, "when you get beneath the surface, Cambridge is rather a sad place. There are a good many disappointed men here--people who wake up suddenly in middle life, and realise that if they had gone out into the world they would have done better; but I like Cambridge; you can do as you like here--and then the rainfall is low." Howard went back to his rooms and wrote a short note to Mrs. Graves to suggest a visit; he added that he felt ashamed of himself for never coming, "but Monica says that you would like to see me, and Monica is generally right." That evening Jack came in to say good-bye. He did not look forwards to the vacation at all, he said; "Windlow is simply the limit! I believe it's the dullest place in the kingdom!" "What would you feel if I told you that we shall probably meet?" said Howard. "I am going to stay with Mrs. Graves--that is, if she will have me. I don't mind saying that the fact that you are close by is a considerable reason why I think of going." "That's simply splendid!" said Jack; "we will have no end of a time. Do you DO anything in particular--fish, I mean, or shoot? There's some wretched fishing in the river, and there is some rabbit-shooting on the downs. Mrs. Graves has a keeper, a shabby old man who shoots, as they say, for the house. I believe she objects to shooting; but you might persuade her, and we could go out together." "Yes," said Howard, "I do shoot and fish in a feeble way. We will see what can be done." "There are things to see, I believe," said Jack, "churches and houses, if you like that sort of thing--I don't; but we might get up some expeditions--they are rather fun. I think you won't mind my sister. She isn't bad for a woman. But women don't understand men. They are always sympathising with you or praising you. They think that is what men like, but it only means that it is what they would like. Men like to be left alone--but I daresay she thinks I don't understand her. Then there's my father! He is quite a good sort, really; but by George, how he does talk! I often think I'd like to turn him loose in the Combination Room. No one would have a chance. Redmayne simply wouldn't be in it with my father. I've invented rather a good game when he gets off. I try to see how many I can count before I am expected to make a remark. I have never quite got up to a thousand, but once I nearly let the cat out by saying nine hundred and fifty, nine hundred and fifty-one, when my father stopped for breath. He gave me a look, I can tell you, but I don't think he saw what I was after. Maud was seized with hysterics. But he isn't a bad sort of parent, as they go; he fusses, but he lets one do as one wants. I suppose I oughtn't to give my people away; but I never can see why one shouldn't talk about one's people just as if they were anybody else. I don't think I hold things sacred, as the Dean says: 'Reticence, reticence, the true characteristic of the English gentleman and the sincere Christian!'"