's entrance at
Boniface. Repeated differences with the university authorities caused
Mr. Foker to quit Oxbridge in an untimely manner. He would persist in
attending races on the neighbouring Hungerford Heath, in spite of the
injunctions of his academic superiors. He never could be got to frequent
the chapel of the college with that regularity of piety which Alma Mater
demands from her children; tandems, which are abominations in the eyes
of the heads and tutors, were Foker's greatest delight, and so reckless
was his driving and frequent the accidents and upsets out of his drag,
that Pen called taking a drive with him taking the "Diversions of
Purley;" finally, having a dinner-party at his rooms to entertain some
friends from London, nothing would satisfy Mr. Foker but painting Mr.
Buck's door vermilion, in which freak he was caught by the proctors; and
although young Black Strap, the celebrated negro fighter, who was one of
Mr. Foker's distinguished guests, and was holding the can of paint while
the young artist operated on the door, knocked down two of the proctor's
attendants and performed prodigies of valour, yet these feats rather
injured than served Foker, whom the proctor knew very well and who was
taken with the brush in his hand, and who was summarily convened and
sent down from the university.

The tutor wrote a very kind and feeling letter to Lady Agnes on the
subject, stating that everybody was fond of the youth; that he never
meant harm to any mortal creature; that he for his own part would have
been delighted to pardon the harmless little boyish frolic, had not its
unhappy publicity rendered it impossible to look the freak over, and
breathing the most fervent wishes for the young fellow's welfare--wishes
no doubt sincere, for Foker, as we know, came of a noble family on his
mother's side, and on the other was heir to a great number of thousand
pounds a year.

"It don't matter," said Foker, talking over the matter with Pen,--"a
little sooner or a little later, what is the odds? I should have been
plucked for my little-go again, I know I should--that Latin I cannot
screw into my head, and my mamma's anguish would have broke out next
term. The Governor will blow like an old grampus, I know he will,--well,
we must stop till he gets his wind again. I shall probably go abroad and
improve my mind with foreign travel. Yes, parly-voo's the ticket. It'ly,
and that sort of thing. I'll go to Paris and learn to dance a