after all.
However, there was his promise, and he must go on with it. 'But I'll be
hanged,' he said to himself, 'if I come within a thousand miles of
hurting her feelings. Wallace must do that for himself if he wants to.'

It had been arranged that Miss Bretherton should be allowed two breaches,
and two only, of the law against sight-seeing--a walk through the
schools'-quadrangle, and a drive down High Street. Mr. Sartoris, who had
been an examiner during the summer term, and had so crept into the good
graces of the Clerk of the Schools, was sent off to suborn that
functionary for the keys of the iron gates which on Sunday shut out the
Oxford world from the sleepy precincts of the Bodleian. The old clerk was
in a lax vacation mood, and the envoy returned key in hand. Mrs. Stuart
and Forbes undertook the guidance of Miss Bretherton, while the others
started to prepare the boats. It was a hot June day, and the gray
buildings, with their cool shadows, stood out delicately against a pale
blue sky dappled with white cloud. Her two guides led Miss Bretherton
through the quadrangle of the schools, which, fresh as it was from the
hands of the restorer, rose into the air like some dainty white piece of
old-world confectionery. For the windows are set so lightly in the
stone-work, and are so nearly level with the wall, that the whole great
building has an unsubstantial card-board air, as if a touch might dint
it.

'The doctrinaires call it a fault,' said Forbes indignantly, pointing out
the feature to his companions. 'I'd like to see them build anything
nowadays with half so much imagination and charm.'

They looked enviously at the closed door of the Bodleian, they read the
Latin names of the schools just freshly painted at intervals round the
quadrangle, and then Forbes led them out upon the steps in front of the
Radcliffe and S. Mary's, and let them take their time a little.

'How strange that there should be anything in the world,' cried Miss
Bretherton, 'so beautiful all through, so all of a piece as this! I had
no idea it would be half so good. Don't, don't laugh at me, Mr. Forbes. I
have not seen all the beautiful things you other people have seen. Just
let me rave.'

'_I_ laugh at you!' said Forbes, standing back in the shadow of the
archway, his fine lined face, aglow with pleasure, turned towards her.
'_I_, who have got Oxford in my bones and marrow, so to speak! Why, every
stone in the place is sacred to me! Poetr