"Well, then, I'm afraid it's one of those expectations in which you'll be disappointed if you're really coming up here. Trinity's the best college in Cambridge--or Oxford either for that matter--but it isn't the only one, and n.o.body thinks it is unless it's fellows like Minshull, who are always running it down, although they would have given their ears to belong to it themselves."

"I don't like the tone you take up about Minshull, Lucius," said Mr.

Binney. "Minshull's a very good fellow, although he hasn't had the advantages that you and I have. I owe him a great deal, and I shan't forget it. Now I must go and look over the subjects for to-morrow's papers."

CHAPTER VI

LORD BLATHGOWRIE HAS SOMETHING TO SAY

Poor Lucius went up to Cambridge for his second year with his allowance pared down to 360 a year, for, careful as he was, he had not been so successful as altogether to avoid hurting his father's susceptibilities; and with him went Mr. Binney, for eighteen months of hard toil had enabled him to pa.s.s the entrance examination, and he was now duly admitted a pensioner of Trinity.

Lucius had been allotted rooms in college, while Mr. Binney inhabited one of the choice mansions in Jesus Lane. He had knocked off ten pounds from his son's allowance for suggesting a retired situation in the Trumpington Road. "I am determined to do the thing as well as my means will permit of," he had said. "If I can secure good rooms in college next year, I shall do so. Until then I shall take the best lodgings that are available."

They parted at the railway station. "I suppose I shall see you some time to-morrow," said Mr. Binney, when he had collected his luggage and was just stepping into a fly.

"I suppose so," said Lucius dejectedly, as he drove away.

Lucius dined that night in hall, and sat in extreme misery while his friends aired their humour at his expense, for by this time the news of Mr. Binney's arrival had become public property. Their chaff was not ill-humoured, and if matters had stood as they evidently imagined, Lucius could have borne it. Elderly undergraduates are not altogether unknown at Cambridge, although they do not often appear at Trinity College; but they are usually careful to comport themselves with dignified reticence, and to keep very much in the background. A University degree is, as a rule, the sole end they have in view in putting themselves to school again, and they are very far from wishing to ape the manners and customs of the young men with whom they share the pursuit of that laudable object. Lucius had the mortification of feeling that if Mr. Binney had contented himself with working quietly for a degree, and living the un.o.btrusive life which befitted his years, the amused interest aroused by the event of father and son pursuing their studies at the same time at the same college would have worn itself out, and Mr. Binney might even have come to be considered in the light of a pleasant acquaintance by Lucius's friends. He knew quite well that his father would not be content with this humble role, and that the intermittent sniping of which he was now the object would develop into a regular fusillade of ridicule when Mr. Binney had had time to spread himself a bit and become more notorious.

He went back to his solitary rooms after hall and set himself down to read. Poor boy, he was too dispirited to do anything else. He sported himself in with the half-formed intention of refusing admittance to his father if he should present himself. But up to ten o'clock, when the college gates are shut to outsiders, no one had attempted to invade his privacy. Soon afterwards he went to bed, having spent his first evening at Cambridge entirely in his own society. For two days he moped alone, keeping to his rooms as much as possible and only leaving the college to go down to the river, where his fame was steadily rising. His friends for the most part considerately kept out of his way, thinking that he might be engaged in looking after his freshman parent. But strangely enough he heard or saw nothing of Mr. Binney.

He avoided places where he was likely to meet him, and so far his father had never once been to his rooms.

On the third morning he determined to face the music. "If I'm to stop up here," he said to himself--"and I can't go down now I've got a chance of my Blue--I must make up my mind to get used to it. But it's enough to make a fellow take to drink, or work, or something." Then he put on his hat and went round to the "Pitt" Club.

There was a group of men round the fire-place in the big room.

"Halloa! here's Binney Minor," said one of them. "How's your major getting on, old man?"

Then many agreeable pleasantries were fired off at him, while he sat on one of the long seats and pretended to read a paper. When it was found that the pleasantries did not amuse him, and he was taking his fate seriously, they ceased, and by-and-bye an exodus took place and he was left to himself.

"I'm afraid poor old Lucy's papa is rather a trial to him," said one of his late tormentors as they walked up Jesus Lane in the sedate and easy manner affected by undergraduates who value their position. "What has he come up for, any way?"

"To look after Lucy, I suppose," said another, "but I don't know why; _he's_ straight enough."

"Have you seen the little beggar?" inquired Blathgowrie, who was one of the group. "He's one of the rummiest little beggars you ever saw; rather like an elderly jockey who's got into parliament. Can't think where Lucy gets his good looks from. His mother must have been a ripper."

"I saw him on the river yesterday," said a rowing man; "he was c.o.xing a First Trinity boat and shouting away as if he had been at it all his life. The crew looked frightened and the coach couldn't get a word in edgeways. I think that little man is going to afford us some amus.e.m.e.nt."

"If he's going to play the fool," said the first man, "that's why Lucy looks so glum when he's chaffed, and I don't wonder at it. I must say it's beastly hard lines on him, and he's such a good chap. Binney major's the sort of governor one would like to keep in the background.

Here's Dizzy."

Dizzy was on his way to the "Pitt." When he got there he found Lucius sitting alone, looking the picture of misery. A few Bloods were talking blatantly round the fire, and some quiet members were trying to write letters or read the papers in other parts of the room.

"Well, how has he been behaving?" asked Dizzy, sitting down by his friend.

"I haven't seen him yet," said Lucius. "I can't think why."

"Perhaps he means to behave decently and keep out of the way,"

suggested Dizzy.

"Not he," answered Lucius. "There's something up."

There was. When Lucius got back to his rooms he found a note on his table.

"Dear Lucius," it ran, "Pray what is the meaning of your not coming to call on me? You know very well that I can't go to your rooms until you do, you being the senior man, and there are a lot of things I want to talk to you about. You will find yourself 10 poorer at the end of the year for this piece of impertinence, and let me advise you to be very careful how you behave. Though a freshman I am still your father.

Come to tea this afternoon at five o'clock. I am not to be trifled with.--P.B."

The miserable Lucius went to his father's rooms on his way up from the river. Mr. Binney had been on the river, too, and had not yet returned. Lucius had an opportunity of surveying his father's quarters. There was nothing to show they did not belong to the most callow freshman of eighteen. There were two large shields with the coats-of-arms of the University and Trinity College over the mantelpiece. There was a Trinity coat-of-arms on the coal scuttle, on the match-holders, the pipe-rack, and every article in the room that could reasonably bear it, as well as on every piece of crockery that was laid out on Mr. Binney's tea-table. The usual textbooks and note-books lay about. Lucius looked into the latter and found a feeble attempt at a caricature of a respected lecturer, signed P.B. On the mantelpiece were some printed cards and papers relating to certain small clubs and societies, of which the freshman seeks membership with much avidity, and resigns with equal enthusiasm when he has reached the dignity of his second year. On a chair lay Mr. Binney's cap and gown.

To Lucius's horror, the stiffening of the cap had disappeared, and the gown had been cut short. These are the unfailing signs of the second-rate undergraduate who wishes to be taken for a sporting character. Some misguided but radically inoffensive freshmen fall under the influence of such ideals in their early days, and grow out of them afterwards. But surely Mr. Binney could not have made friends with the rowdies yet! He had hardly had time to make friends with anybody.

Just then Mr. Binney himself came in. He was in his boating clothes, of which he was not a little proud.

"Oh, so you've condescended to come at last, have you?" he said.

"I'm very sorry, father," said poor Lucius. "I'd no idea you would stand on all that ceremony. I couldn't make out why you didn't turn up. I thought perhaps you had made up your mind that it would be better for us to take different lines."

"Another ten pounds off," roared Mr. Binney, "you know what I said."

"Oh, _d.a.m.n_ it," said Lucius, losing patience. "I shan't have anything left at all soon. I'd better go down at once, and have done with it."

"How dare you swear at me, sir?" cried Mr. Binney.

"Well, isn't it enough to make a chap swear?" answered Lucius, almost crying. "I've had such a jolly time up here, and now I'm ashamed to show my face. And as if that wasn't enough you take money off me every time I open my mouth."

Mr. Binney relented. He was fond of his son, and Lucius looked very unhappy. "I'll let you off this time," he said, "but don't let it occur again. Now, what I wanted to say was that I'm not getting on as I expected. Not a soul has called on me except some one who wanted a subscription for a missionary society. I was very pleased to give him a sovereign, of course, but I could hardly take his call as a friendly visit. I have picked up a few friends of my own year at hall and elsewhere, but that isn't what I want. I want to know the distinguished men. You know them. Why haven't you sent some of them to call on me?"

"Look here, father," said Lucius. "It's no use going on like this.

The people I know don't go in for all this 'calling' rot, and I'm not going to ask them to. If you _must_ know that particular lot, you'll meet some of them in my rooms occasionally, and if they take to you, well, you'll get to know some of them. But you must take your chance just like anybody else. It's no good pushing things."

"Well, there's sense in that," said Mr. Binney. "You can have a little dinner in your rooms. I'll pay for it, and I daresay we shall be very good friends before the evening is out. I suppose you couldn't get Muttlebury up for it, could you? You said you knew him. I should like to meet Muttlebury."

"No, I couldn't," said Lucius shortly.

"Well, any blues will do. I should like to be able to tell Minshull I dined with a party of blues. He only knew one, and that very slightly--Widgeon, who put the hammer or something last year. He was at Peterhouse--Pothouse, I mean. By-the-bye, I suppose there's no harm in my looking up men of my own year, is there?"

"I suppose not, not if you use your sense about it."

"Now, what about the 'Pitt' Club? When is the election?"

"I don't know. In about a fortnight I should think."

"Is my name down for it?"

"No."

"And why not, pray?"

"I've only been there once since I came up."