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the　hands　of　God。〃



Shelton　was　silent。



〃The　questions　of　morality；〃　said　the　parson　promptly；　〃have　always

lain　through　God　in　the　hands　of　men；　not　women。　　We　are　the

reasonable　sex。〃



Shelton　stubbornly　replied



〃We　're　certainly　the　greater　humbugs；　if　that　's　the　same。〃



〃This　is　too　bad；〃　exclaimed　the　parson　with　some　heat。



〃I　'm　sorry；　sir；　but　how　can　you　expect　women　nowadays　to　have　the

same　views　as　our　grandmothers？　　We　men；　by　our　commercial

enterprise；　have　brought　about　a　different　state　of　things；　yet；　for

the　sake　of　our　own　comfort；　we　try　to　keep　women　where　they　were。

It's　always　those　men　who　are　most　keen　about　their　comfort〃　and　in

his　heat　the　sarcasm　of　using　the　word　〃comfort〃　in　that　room　was

lost　on　him〃who　are　so　ready　to　accuse　women　of　deserting　the　old

morality。〃



The　parson　quivered　with　impatient　irony。



〃Old　morality！　new　morality！〃　he　said。　　〃These　are　strange　words。〃



〃Forgive　me；〃　explained　Shelton；　〃we　're　talking　of　working　morality；

I　imagine。　　There's　not　a　man　in　a　million　fit　to　talk　of　true

morality。〃



The　eyes　of　his　host　contracted。



〃I　think；〃　he　saidand　his　voice　sounded　as　if　he　had　pinched　it　in

the　endeavour　to　impress　his　listener〃that　any　well…educated　man

who　honestly　tries　to　serve　his　God　has　the　right　humblyI　say

humblyto　claim　morality。〃



Shelton　was　on　the　point　of　saying　something　bitter；　but　checked

himself。　　〃Here　am　I；〃　thought　he；　〃trying　to　get　the　last　word；　like

an　old　woman。〃



At　this　moment　there　was　heard　a　piteous　mewing；　the　parson　went

towards　the　door。



〃Excuse　me　a　moment；　I　'm　afraid　that's　one　of　my　cats　out　in　the

wet。〃　　He　returned　a　minute　later　with　a　wet　cat　in　his　arms。　　〃They

will　get　out；〃　he　said　to　Shelton；　with　a　smile　on　his　thin　face；

suffused　by　stooping。　　And　absently　he　stroked　the　dripping　cat；

while　a　drop　of　wet　ran　off　his　nose。　　〃Poor　pussy；　poor　pussy！〃　　The

sound　of　that　〃Poor　pussy！〃　like　nothing　human　in　its　cracked

superiority；　the　softness　of　that　smile；　like　the　smile　of　gentleness

itself；　haunted　Shelton　till　he　fell　asleep。









CHAPTER　XVIII



ACADEMIC



The　last　sunlight　was　playing　on　the　roofs　when　the　travellers

entered　that　High　Street　grave　and　holy　to　all　Oxford　men。　　The

spirit　hovering　above　the　spires　was　as　different　from　its

concretions　in　their　caps　and　gowns　as　ever　the　spirit　of　Christ　was

from　church　dogmas。



〃Shall　we　go　into　Grinnings'？〃　asked　Shelton；　as　they　passed　the

club。



But　each　looked　at　his　clothes；　for　two　elegant　young　men　in　flannel

suits　were　coming　out。



〃You　go；〃　said　Crocker；　with　a　smirk。



Shelton　shook　his　head。　　Never　before　had　he　felt　such　love　for　this

old　city。　　It　was　gone　now　from　out　his　life；　but　everything　about　it

seemed　so　good　and　fine；　even　its　exclusive　air　was　not　ignoble。

Clothed　in　the　calm　of　history；　the　golden　web　of　glorious　tradition；

radiant　with　the　alchemy　of　memories；　it　bewitched　him　like　the

perfume　of　a　woman's　dress。　　At　the　entrance　of　a　college　they

glanced　in　at　the　cool　grey　patch　of　stone　beyond；　and　the　scarlet　of

a　window　flowerboxsecluded；　mysteriously　calma　narrow　vision　of

the　sacred　past。　　Pale　and　trencher…capped；　a　youth　with　pimply　face

and　random　nose；　grabbing　at　his　cloven　gown；　was　gazing　at　the

noticeboard。　　The　college　porterlarge　man；　fresh…faced；　and　small…

mouthedstood　at　his　lodge　door　in　a　frank　and　deferential　attitude。

An　image　of　routine；　he　looked　like　one　engaged　to　give　a　decorous

air　to　multitudes　of　pecadilloes。　　His　blue　eyes　rested　on　the

travellers。　　〃I　don't　know　you；　sirs；　but　if　you　want　to　speak　I

shall　be　glad　to　hear　the　observations　you　may　have　to　make；〃　they

seemed　to　say。



Against　the　wall　reposed　a　bicycle　with　tennis…racquet　buckled　to　its

handle。　　A　bull…dog　bitch；　working　her　snout　from　side　to　side；　was

snuffling　horribly；　the　great　iron…studded　door　to　which　her　chain

was　fastened　stayed　immovable。　　Through　this　narrow　mouth；　human

metal　had　been　poured　for　centuriespoured；　moulded；　given　back。



〃Come　along；〃　said　Shelton。



They　now　entered　the　Bishop's　Head；　and　had　their　dinner　in　the　room

where　Shelton　had　given　his　Derby　dinner　to　four…and…twenty　well…bred

youths；　here　was　the　picture　of　the　racehorse　that　the　wineglass；

thrown　by　one　of　them；　had　missed　when　it　hit　the　waiter；　and　there；

serving　Crocker　with　anchovy　sauce；　was　the　very　waiter。　　When　they

had　finished；　Shelton　felt　the　old　desire　to　rise　with　difficulty

from　the　table；　the　old　longing　to　patrol　the　streets　with　arm　hooked

in　some　other　arm；　the　old　eagerness　to　dare　and　do　something　heroic

and　unlawful；　the　old　sense　that　he　was　of　the　forest　set；　in　the

forest　college；　of　the　forest　country　in　the　finest　world。　　The

streets；　all　grave　and　mellow　in　the　sunset；　seemed　to　applaud　this

after…dinner　stroll；　the　entrance　quad　of　his　old　collegespaciously

majestic；　monastically　modern；　for　years　the　heart　of　his　universe；

the　focus　of　what　had　gone　before　it　in　his　life；　casting　the　shadow

of　its　grey　walls　over　all　that　had　come　after…brought　him　a　sense　of

rest　from　conflict；　and　trust　in　his　own　important　safety。　　The

garden…gate；　whose　lofty　spikes　he　had　so　often　crowned　with　empty

water…bottles；　failed　to　rouse　him。　　Nor　when　they　passed　the

staircase　where　he　had　flung　a　leg　of　lamb　at　some　indelicate

disturbing　tutor；　did　he　feel　remorse。　　High　on　that　staircase　were

the　rooms　in　which　he　had　crammed　for　his　degree；　upon　the　system　by

which　the　scholar　simmers　on　the　fire　of　cramming；　boils　over　at　the

moment　of　examination；　and　is　extinct　for　ever　after。　　His　coach's

face　recurred　to　him；　a　man　with　thrusting　eyes；　who　reeled　off

knowledge　all　the　week；　and　disappeared　to　town　on　Sundays。



They　passed　their　tutor's　staircase。



〃I　wonder　if　little　Turl　would　remember　us？〃　said　Crocker；　〃I　should

like　to　see　him。　　Shall　we　go　and　look　him　up？〃



〃Little　Turl？〃　said　Shelton　dreamily。



Mounting；　they　knocked　upon　a　solid　door。



〃Come　in；〃　said　the　voice　of　Sleep　itself。



A　little　man　with　a　pink　face　and　large　red　ears　was　sitting　in　a　fat

pink　chair；　as　if　he　had　been　grown　there。



〃What　do　you　want？〃　he　asked　of　them；　blinking。



〃Don't　you　know　me；　sir？〃



〃God　bless　me！　Crocker；　isn't　it？　　I　didn't　recognise　you　with　a

beard。〃



Crocker；　who　had　not　been　shaved　since　starting　on　his　travels；

chuckled　feebly。



〃You　remember　Shelton；　sir？〃　he　said。



〃Shelton？　　Oh　yes！　　How　do　you　do；　Shelton？　　Sit　down；　take　a　cigar〃；

and；　crossing　his　fat　little　legs；　the　little　gentleman　looked　them

up　and　down　with　drowsy　interest；　as　who　should　say；　〃Now；　after；　all

you　know；　why　come　and　wake　me　up　like　this？〃



Shelton　and　Crocker　took　two　other　chairs；　they　too　seemed　thinking；

〃Yes；　why　did　we　come　and　wake　him　up　like　this？　　〃And　Shelton；　who

could　not　tell　the　reason　why；　took　refuge　in　the　smoke　of　his　cigar。

The　panelled　walls　were　hung　with　prints　of　celebrated　Greek　remains；

the　soft；　thick　carpet　on　the　floor　was　grateful　to　his　tired　feet；

the　backs　of　many　books　gleamed　richly　in　the　light　of　the　oil　lamps；

the　culture　and　tobacco　smoke　stole　on　his　senses；　he　but　vaguely

comprehended　Crocker's　amiable　talk；　vaguely　the　answers　of　his

little　host；　whose　face；　blinking　behind　the　bowl　of　his　huge

meerschaum　pipe；　had　such　a　queer　resemblance　to　a　moon。　　The　door

was　opened；　and　a　tall　creature；　whose　eyes　were　large　and　brown；

whose　face　was　rosy　and　ironical；　entered　with　a　manly　stride。



〃Oh！〃　he　said；　looking　round　him　with　his　chin　a　little　in　the　air；

〃am　I　intruding；　Turl？〃



The　little　host；　blinking　more　than　ever；　murmured；



〃Not　at　all；　Berrymantake　a　pew！〃



The　visitor　called　Berryman　sat　down；　and　gazed　up　at　the　wall　with

his　fine　eyes。



Shelton　had　a　faint　remembrance　of　this　don；　and　bowed；　but　the　new…

comer　sat　smiling；　and　did　not　notice　the　salute。



〃Trimmer　and　Washer　are　coming　round；〃　he　said；　and　as　he　spoke　the

door　opened　to　admit　these　gentlemen。　　Of　the　same　height；　but

different　appearance；　their　manner　was　faintly　jocular；　faintly

supercilious；　as　if　they　tolerated　everything。　　The　one　whose　name

was　Trimmer　had　patches　of　red　on　his　large　cheek…bones；　and　on　his

cheeks　a　bluish　tint。　　His　lips　were　rather　full；　so　that　he　had　a

likeness　to　a　spider。　　Washer；　who　was　thin　and　pale；　wore　an

intellectual　smile。



The　little　fat　host　moved　the　hand　that　held　the　meerschaum。



〃Crocker；　Shelton；〃　he　said。



An　awkward　silence　followed。　　Shelton　tried　to　rouse　the　cultured

portion　of　his　wits；　but　the　sense　that　nothing　would　be　treated

seriously　paralysed　his　faculties；　he　stayed　silent；　staring　at　the

glowing　tip　of　his　cigar。　　It　seemed　to　him　unfair　to　have　intruded

on　these　gentlemen　without　its　having　been　made　quite　clear　to　th