raduate mind. So the whole body escorted
Tom to the door of the lodgings, impressing upon him the
necessity of engaging both his lionesses for every hour of every
day in St. Ambrose's, and left him not till they had heard him
ask for the young ladies, and seen him fairly on his way
upstairs. They need not have taken so much trouble, for in his
secret soul he was no little pleased at the appearance of
creditable ladies, more or less belonging to him, and would have
found his way to see them quickly and surely enough without any
urging. Moreover, he had been really fond of his cousin, years
before, when they had been boy and girl together.

So they greeted one another very cordially, and looked one
another over as they shook hands, to see what changes time had
made. He makes his changes rapidly enough at that age, and mostly
for the better, as the two cousins thought. It was nearly three
years since they had met, and then he was a fifth-form boy and
she a girl in the school-room. They were both conscious of a
strange pleasure in meeting again, mixed with a feeling of
shyness and wonder whether they should be able to step back into
their old relations.

Mary looked on demurely, really watching them, but ostensibly
engaged on the rosebud trimming. Presently Miss Winter turned to
her and said, "I don't think you two ever met before; I must
introduce you, I suppose;--my cousin Tom, my cousin Mary."

"Then we must be cousins, too," said Tom, holding out his hand.

"No, Katie says not," she answered.

"I don't mean to believe her, then," said Tom; "but what are you
going to do now, to-night? Why didn't you write and tell me you
were coming?"

"We have been so shut up lately, owing to papa's bad health, that
I really had almost forgotten that you were at Oxford."

"By the bye," said Tom, "where is uncle?"

"Oh, he is dining at the Vice-Chancellor's, who is an old college
friend of his. We have only been up here three or four hours, and
it has done him so much good. I am so glad we spirited him up to
coming."

"You haven't made any engagements yet, I hope?"

"Indeed we have; I can't tell how many. We came in time for
luncheon in Balliol. Mary and I made it our dinner, and we have
been seeing sights ever since, and have been asked to go to I
don't know how many luncheons and breakfasts."

"What, with a lot of dons, I suppose?" said Tom, spitefully; "you
won't enjoy Oxford, then; they'll bore you to death."

"Ther