"It isn't polite of you to say, 'bother my father,' Peter," rejoined Mrs. Higginbotham with some warmth. "He was a very good father to me, and I never gave him a moment's trouble till the day of his death. I did think that after the lesson you had received—being locked into your bedroom every night at eight o'clock as I gathered from your letter—that you would have seen the folly of such behaviour. But I am sorry to see from this paper which you sent me the other day, that this is not the case."
Mrs. Higginbotham took up from the table at her side one of those ephemeral journals which come and go at the Universities with almost as much frequency as the successive generations of undergraduates who produce them. This one was called The New Court Chronicle, and had been started by one of Mr. Binney's Rugby football acquaintances. In it was a weekly letter in imitation of those that appear in some of the London Society papers, and one paragraph ran as follows:—
"Millie has come up here for a week to see something of her younger brother, Arthur, who has entered at Trinity, and is quite a persona grata with the 'smart' set at that most chic of all the colleges. He took his brother-in-law to a dinner at Mr. 'Peter' Binney's rooms one night, and Sir George came away quite charmed with the verve and élan of his diminutive host. Sir George says that there was not so much wine drunk as in his days at Cambridge, but what there was, was of excellent quality and seemed to go further. Little Mr. Binney insisted on making a speech, and caused uproarious merriment by remarking that he saw double the number of friends he had invited, but he was pleased to welcome them all, and as many more of the same sort as liked to come. Owing to the sultriness of the weather, Mr. Binney was unfortunately seized with a slight indisposition before the party broke up, but he was comfortably settled in bed by his guests before they left, and Millie met him in Jesus Lane the next morning looking as sprightly as ever, and had a short conversation with him, in which he humorously remarked that he had never turned his back upon don or devil yet."
Mrs. Higginbotham opened the paper and pointed to this paragraph.
"It was indeed a grief to me to read that, Peter," she said, "and how you could send it me of your own accord passes my comprehension. Inattention to study I can overlook, and thoughtless levity of conduct I can pardon—but drunkenness! Oh, Peter, I never thought it would come to that."
Mr. Binney had been getting very red during the passing of this exordium on his conduct.
"Pooh, Martha!" he burst out at last. "How could I have known that you would take it seriously. You don't think all that rubbish is true, do you? It is all made up and put in for a lark. I sent it to you because—well, because I thought it would please you to see how popular and well-known I have become in Cambridge. If you don't like it, throw it in the fire."
"But if it is not true, Peter," said Mrs. Higginbotham—"and I'm sure I'm very much relieved to hear that it is not—why do you allow such things to be put into a paper? It distinctly says you 'saw double,' and I have always understood that to be an unfailing sign of—of tipsiness. I call it disgraceful taking away a gentleman's character like that. Supposing it should come round to Dr. Toller's ears, or some others of the congregation? And you a deacon, too, and so much looked up to."
"Dr. Toller!" echoed Mr. Binney with much scorn. "What do I care for Dr. Toller? He's not a 'Varsity man; he doesn't understand these things."
"He has got a University degree," said Mrs. Higginbotham. "Indeed, two degrees. He is always put in the bills as Rev. Samuel Toller, B.A., D.D."