l might be.

"I thank you, sir. I had, indeed, took the liberty of telling the
manciple that you was not a gentleman to give more trouble than you
could 'elp. Fried sole, pot of tea, toast, pot of blackberry jam,
commons of bread--" Mr. Blenkiron disappeared.

Taffy sprang out of bed and ran to the open window in the next room.
The gardens lay below him--smooth turf flanked with a border of gay
flowers, flanked on the other side with yews, and beyond the yews
with an avenue of limes, and beyond these with tall elms. A straight
gravelled walk divided the turf. At the end of it two yews of
magnificent spread guarded a great iron gate. Beyond these the
chimneys and battlements of Wadham College stood grey against the
pale eastern sky, and over them the larks were singing.

So this was Oxford; more beautiful than all his dreams! And since
his examination would not begin until to-morrow, he had a whole long
day to make acquaintance with her. Half a dozen times he, had to
interrupt his dressing to run and gaze out of the window, skipping
back when he heard Blenkiron's tread on the staircase. And at
breakfast again he must jump up and examine the door. Yes, there was
a second door outside--a heavy _oak_-just as his father had
described. What stories had he heard about these oaks! He was
handling this one almost idolatrously when Blenkiron appeared
suddenly at the head of the stairs. Blenkiron was good enough to
explain at some length how the door worked, while Taffy, who did not
need his instruction in the least, blushed to the roots of his hair.

For, indeed, it was like first love, this adoration of Oxford;
shamefast, shy of its own raptures; so shy, indeed, that when he put
on his hat and walked out into the streets he could not pluck up
courage to ask his way. Some of the colleges he recognised from his
father's description; of one or two he discovered the names by
peeping through their gateways and reading the notices pinned up by
the porters' lodges, for it never occurred to him that he was free to
step inside and ramble through the quadrangles. He wondered where
the river lay, and where Magdalen, and where Christ Church.
He passed along the Turl and down Brasenose Lane; and at the foot of
it, beyond the great chestnut-tree leaning over Exeter wall, the
vision of noble square, the dome of the Radcliffe, and St. Mary's
spire caught his breath and held him gasping. His feet took him by
the gate of Bras