not so sad-not so sad! Pleasure, not so elated. There, going, once-going twice-Youth at the prow and Pleasure at the helm. It's a masterpiece Now, you don't want me any longer.'

CHAPTER IV

BACK TO COLLEGE

HACO returned to Edinburgh in low spirits. The

afternoon he had spent with Lady Mary was, indeed, a memory worth having.

He thought he

could survive upon it for a considerable time; but what made him miserable was that he would be

obliged, after the summer session was over, so to survive.

Lady Mary had made up her mind to leave the angry turmoil of agitation which had set in upon the ladies who wished to study at Edinburgh, and

to betake herself to Vienna, where a diploma was open to her, if she could win it. Sir Thomas had urgently represented to her that she was giving up the splendid privileges of her womanhood by attempting to enter a field consecrated to men. He had used all the arguments in his repertory, but only to find that Lady Mary seemed more and more determined to go to Vienna and get her degree. She was still, however, to abide by the hospital for the summer months. But the prospect of her going abroad seemed to rob Edinburgh of all its attractions for Haco. He went back to his rooms in Queen Street, disheartened. He thought they smelt musty. He found Mrs Ramsay's greetings a little offensive in their effusiveness. The bitter hours of the winter seemed to hang about the window-curtains and to pervade the furniture.

Three letters on the mantelpiece, in Roger Thorburn's hand, completed the disenchantment

of his return to liberty; for on opening them he discovered that one of them contained a reminder of money due for the dead man's widow. Another one emphasized the statement and suggested a menace. The third announced that if the weekly instalments were not paid, recourse would be had by the friends of the murdered one to the machinery of the law.

Along with the letters, Roger enclosed a pamphlet by himself, called Post Obitum. It was a singular little treatise, composed for the benefit of invalids, and, to Haco's amazement he saw the letters M.D., LL.D., after the quack's name.

He then knew that he had executed his threat, and applied to the little Dutchman who obtained quack degrees for five pounds a-piece.

The same day he went up to the quadrangle of the University. It was very unlike the busy winter months. There were no art students, with their shining, morning faces; no law students, beginning

to look cynical, because of the foretaste of a knowledge of human character; no divinity students

carrying their heads high, with the conviction that they might lecture crowned heads from pulpits and be themselves not a pin the worse.

It was the summer session, and that belonged to the medical students. The others, as I have said, had all gone home; the poorer ones to work on farms, to wait in hotels, to go out in fishingboats, to teach, to preach, to do anything which would turn over enough of money to enable them to come up smiling next session; the richer ones to daudle at home, to spend five months in Berlin or Heidelberg, or otherwise wait through the long vacation for their next spell of reading.

Haco found the absence of variety in the faces a new source of ennui. They were all men carrying Quains under their arms, most of them having an imitative resemblance to this or that professor whom they admired. They were more or less all