Frank opened his eyes wide.
"Why, of course. Good Lord! did you think I was bluffing?"
"But … but it's perfectly mad. Why on earth don't you get a proper situation somewhere—land-agent or something?"
"My dear man," said Frank, "if you will have it, it's because I want to do exactly what I'm going to do. No—I'm being perfectly serious. I've thought for ages that we're all wrong somehow. We're all so beastly artificial. I don't want to preach, but I want to test things for myself. My religion tells me—" He broke off. "No; this is fooling. I'm going to do it because I'm going to do it. And I'm really going to do it. I'm not going to be an amateur—like slumming. I'm going to find out things for myself."
"But on the roads—" expostulated Jack.
"Exactly. That's the very point. Back to the land."
Jack sat up.
"Good Lord!" he said. "Why, I never thought of it."
"What?"
"It's your old grandmother coming out."
Frank stared.
"Grandmother?"
"Yes—old Mrs. Kelly."
Frank laughed suddenly and loudly.
"By George!" he said, "I daresay it is. Old Grandmamma Kelly! She was a gipsy—so she was. I believe you've hit it, Jack. Let's see: she was my grandfather's second wife, wasn't she?"
Jack nodded.
"And he picked her up off the roads on his own estate. Wasn't she trespassing, or something?"
Jack nodded again.
"Yes," he said, "and he was a magistrate and ought to have committed her: And he married her instead. She was a girl, traveling with her parents."
Frank sat smiling genially.
"That's it," he said. "Then I'm bound to make a success of it."
And he took another cigarette.
Then one more thought came to Jack: he had determined already to make use of it if necessary, and somehow this seemed to be the moment.
"And Jenny Launton," he said "I suppose you've thought of her?"
A curious look came into Frank's eyes—a look of great gravity and tenderness—and the humor died out. He said nothing for an instant. Then he drew out of his breast-pocket a letter in an envelope, and tossed it gently over to Jack.
"I'm telling her in that," he said. "I'm going to post it to-night, after I've seen the Dean."
Jack glanced down at it.
"Miss Launton,
"The Rectory,
"Merefield, Yorks."
ran the inscription. He turned it over; it was fastened and sealed.
"I've told her we must wait a bit," said Frank, "and that I'll write again in a few weeks."
Jack was silent.
"And you think it's fair on her?" he asked deliberately.
Frank's face broke up into humor.
"That's for her to say," he observed. "And, to tell the truth, I'm not at all afraid."
"But a gamekeeper's wife! And you a Catholic!"
"Ah! you don't know Jenny," smiled Frank. "Jenny and I quite understand one another, thank you very much."
"But is it quite fair?"
"Good Lord!" shouted Frank, suddenly roused. "Fair! What the devil does it matter? Don't you know that all's fair—under certain circumstances? I do bar that rotten conventionalism. We're all rotten—rotten, I tell you; and I'm going to start fresh. So's Jenny. Kindly don't talk of what you don't understand."
He stood up, stretching. Then he threw the end of his cigarette away.
"I must go to the Dean," he said. "It's close on the half-hour."
(III)
The Reverend James Mackintosh was an excellent official of his college, and performed his duties with care and punctilium. He rose about half-past seven o'clock every morning, drank a cup of tea and went to chapel. After chapel he breakfasted, on Tuesdays and Thursdays with two undergraduates in their first year, selected in alphabetical order, seated at his table; on the other days of the week in solitude. At ten o'clock he lectured, usually on one of St. Paul's Epistles, on which subjects he possessed note-books filled with every conceivable piece of information that could be gathered together—grammatical, philological, topographical, industrial, social, biographical—with a few remarks on the fauna, flora, imports, characteristics and geological features of those countries to which those epistles were written, and in which they were composed. These notes, guaranteed to guide any student who really mastered them to success, and even distinction, in his examinations, were the result of a lifetime of loving labor, and some day, no doubt, will be issued in the neat blue covers of the "Cambridge Bible for Schools." From eleven to twelve he lectured on Church history of the first five centuries—after which period, it will be remembered by all historical students, Church history practically ceased. At one he lunched; from two to four he walked rapidly (sometimes again in company with a serious theological student), along the course known as the Grantchester Grind, or to Coton and back. At four he had tea; at five he settled down to administer discipline to the college, by summoning and remonstrating with such undergraduates as had failed to comply with the various regulations; at half-past seven he dined in hall—a meek figure, clean shaven and spectacled, seated between an infidel philosopher and a socialist: he drank a single glass of wine afterwards in the Combination Room, smoked one cigarette, and retired again to his rooms to write letters to parents (if necessary), and to run over his notes for next day.
And he did this, with the usual mild variations of a University life, every weekday, for two-thirds of the year. Of the other third, he spent part in Switzerland, dressed in a neat gray Norfolk suit with knickerbockers, and the rest with clerical friends of the scholastic type. It was a very solemn thought to him how great were his responsibilities, and what a privilege it was to live in the whirl and stir of one of the intellectual centers of England!
Frank Guiseley was to Mr. Mackintosh a very great puzzle. He had certainly been insubordinate in his first year (Mr. Mackintosh gravely suspected him of the Bread-and-Butter affair, which had so annoyed his colleague), but he certainly had been very steady and even deferential ever since. (He always took off his hat, for example, to Mr. Mackintosh, with great politeness.) Certainly he was not very regular at chapel, and he did not dine in hall nearly so often as Mr. Mackintosh would have wished (for was it not part of the University idea that men of all grades of society should meet as equals under the college roof?). But, then, he had never been summoned for any very grave or disgraceful
