ooth, swarthy priest of mediaeval story, half-serious and half-gay,
disguised in modern dress.

"To the Oxford of sacred memory," he said.

They drank.

May was thinking deeply and as she was about to place her glass back
upon the table, the thought that was struggling for expression came to
her. She lifted her glass: "To the Oxford that is to be," she said
gently. She glanced first at Bingham, and then her eyes rested for a
moment upon the Warden.

Bingham watched her keenly. He could see that at that moment she had no
thought of herself. Her thoughts were of Oxford alone, and, Bingham
guessed, with the man with whom she identified Oxford.

Bingham hesitated to raise his glass. Was it a flash of jealousy that
went through him? A jealousy of the new Oxford and all that it might
mean to the two human beings beside him? If it was jealousy it died out
as swiftly as it had come.

He raised his glass.

"To the Oxford of the Future," said the Warden.

"Ad multos annos," said Bingham.

CHAPTER XXX

THE END OF BELINDA AND CO.

Lady Dashwood professed to be very much better the next morning when May
looked in to see how she had slept.

"I'm a new woman," she said to May; "I slept till seven, and then, my
dear, I began to think, and what do you think my thoughts were?"

May shook her head. "You thought it was Sunday morning."

"Quite true," said Lady Dashwood; "I heard the extra bells going on
round us. No, what I was thinking of was, what on earth Marian Potten
did with Gwendolen yesterday afternoon. I'm quite sure she will have
made her useful. I can picture Marian making her guest put on a big
apron and some old Potten gloves and taking her out into the garden to
gather beans. I can picture them gathering beans till tea-time. Marian
is sure to be storing beans, and she wouldn't let the one aged gardener
she has got left waste his time on gathering beans. I can see Marian
raking the pods into a heap and setting fire to the heap. I imagined
that after tea Gwendolen played the 'Reverie' by Slapovski. After
dinner: 'Patience.'"

May pondered.

"And now. May," said Lady Dashwood, looking tired in spite of her theory
that she had become a new woman, "it's a lovely day; even Louise allows
that the sun is shining, and I can't have you staying indoors on my
account. I won't allow you in my bedroom to-day. I shall be very busy."

"No!" said May, reproachfully. "I shall not allow business."

"I'm just goin