"where shall I hang this picture
my mater gave me?"

He displayed in a green frame The Soul's Awakening.

"Do you like it?" Michael asked gloomily.

"I prefer these grouse by Thorburn that the governor gave me, but I like
them both in a way," Alan admitted.

"I don't think it much matters where you hang it," Michael said. Then,
thinking Alan looked rather hurt, he added hastily: "You see it's such a
very square room that practically it might go anywhere."

"Will you have a meringue?" Alan asked, proffering a crowded plate.

"A meringue?" Michael repeated.

"We're rather famous for our meringues here," said Alan gravely. "We
make them in the kitchen. I ordered a double lot in case you came in."

"You seem to have found out a good deal about Christ Church already,"
Michael observed.

"The House," Alan corrected. "We call it--in fact everybody calls it the
House."

Michael was inclined to resent this arrogation by a college not his own
of a distinct and slightly affected piece of nomenclature, and he wished
he possessed enough knowledge of his own peculiar college customs to
counter Alan's display.

"Well, hurry up and come out of the House," he urged. "You can't stay
here unpacking all the afternoon."

"Why do you want to start buying things straight away?" Alan argued.

"Because I know what I want," Michael insisted.

"Since when?" Alan demanded. "I'm not going to buy anything for a bit."

"Come on, come on," Michael urged. He was in a hurry to enjoy the luxury
of traversing the quads of Christ Church in company, of strolling down
the High in company, of looking into shop windows in company, of finally
defeating that first dismal loneliness with Alan and his company.

It certainly proved to be a lavish afternoon. Michael bought three
straight-grained pipes so substantially silvered that they made his own
old pipes take on an attenuated vulgarity. He bought an obese tobacco
jar blazoned with the arms of his college and, similarly blazoned, a
protuberant utensil for matches. He bought numerous ounces of those
prodigally displayed mixtures of tobacco, every one of which was vouched
for by the vendor as in its own way the perfect blend. He bought his cap
and his gown and was measured by the tailor for a coat of Harris tweed
such as everybody seemed to wear. He found the very autotype of Mona
Lisa he coveted, and farther he was persuaded by the picture-dealer to
buy for two guineas a signed proof of a smal