and father has
dined with the Warden, who had toothache and hardly spoke all the
evening. Most unfortunate. We are going to the 'Varsity match, and
Mr. Bradfield says that Fred is the best bat and captain you have had
for ages. I believe mother nearly fainted with delight when she heard
this. Mr. Bradfield dances as well as you do."

The next letter Nina wrote was full of The Bradder's perfections, but
in the following one he was scarcely mentioned, and my mother, who had
never seen Oxford in June, was so delighted with everything that she
did not tell me much about anybody. Still I could not help wondering
what had happened, for Nina was not usually reticent without a reason.

CHAPTER XXIII

OUR LAST YEAR

Fred did not have the satisfaction of seeing his eleven beat Cambridge,
but there had not been such a close finish in a 'Varsity match for
nearly twenty years, and Nina said the excitement was really painful.
"I was quite glad when it was over," she wrote to me. "Mother never
spoke for quite half-an-hour, and Mr. Bradfield nearly ruined his hat
by constantly taking it off and putting it on again. I warned him that
he was spoiling it, but he said that such a finish was worth a hat.
And we lost in the end; a big Cambridge man hit a four and father said
awful things at the top of his voice. Somehow or other that seemed to
relieve everybody. There was only one other Cambridge man to come in,
and if the big man had been bowled instead of hitting a four it would
have been splendid. We waited for Fred afterwards and saw him for a
minute. He said that the big man had been the best cricketer at
Cambridge for four years, and now that he was going down Oxford ought
really to win next year. Fred was very disappointed, but he told us
that this man was a thoroughly good sort, which annoyed me because I
felt as if he must be perfectly horrid."

If my people could be excited at a cricket match I knew that I had
missed something worth seeing, but when I tried to talk about the
'Varsity match to the only member of my German family who spoke
English, she thought I was explaining lawn tennis to her. I felt very
sad indeed, and had to go for a long bicycle ride to shake off a
vigorous attack of the blues.

I suppose those months in Germany must have been useful to me, yet in
spite of a great amount of kindness I was very glad when they were
over. I learned a great deal, I honestly believe, for I often went to