e straight to the "Randolph,"
ordered his room, then dined and refreshed himself after his journey;
and it was not until after eight that he went across to St. John's and
found his way to Cedric's rooms.

Cedric's sisters had taken great pride and pleasure in furnishing them,
and they were the envy of all his friends. A rather impatient "Come
in," answered Malcolm's knock.

Cedric was at his writing-table, but he was evidently not at work. He
gave a surprised exclamation when he saw his visitor's face; but
Malcolm at once perceived that he was not welcome. Cedric frowned
slightly and closed his blotting-case, but not before Malcolm's sharp
eyes had caught sight of a cabinet photograph of Leah Jacobi.

"What on earth has brought you to Oxford?" asked Cedric in rather an
uneasy tone. "I thought it was one of our fellows, and was just
swearing to myself for forgetting to sport the oak. I suppose you are
staying with Dr. Medcalf as usual?"

"No, I had no time to let him know; I am sleeping at the 'Randolph,'"
returned Malcolm quietly. "I am sorry to interrupt you, my boy," with
another glance at the blotting-case; "but I have only a few hours, so I
have no time to lose. May I take this comfortable chair?"--sinking into
it as he spoke. "I have just dined, so we might as well smoke a
friendly weed together."

"You can help yourself--there are some excellent cigars in that
drawer--but I do not feel like smoking myself." Cedric spoke rather
sulkily and with none of his accustomed amiability. "Shall I give you
some whiskey and soda?" But Malcolm refused this refreshment--no man
was more abstemious than he.

"If you want to finish your letter I can look at the paper for half an
hour;" but this suggestion seemed only to irritate Cedric.

"Oh, there is no hurry," he returned hastily; "I could not write a
sentence decently, feeling you were waiting for me to finish. Well,"
struggling with his ill-humour, "what have you been doing with yourself
since you left Staplegrove? You look rather seedy and a bit pale about
the gills--do you and the giant smoke too much?"

"Oh, I am well enough," replied Malcolm hurriedly. "If we come to that,
you have rather a weedy appearance yourself;" for Cedric looked
decidedly thinner, and his eyes were almost unnaturally bright. He
seemed older, too, and changed in some undefinable way; but he had
never looked handsomer. Malcolm forgot his own troubles in his anxiety
to prevent his protege fal