"Well, I'll tell you what, father," said Lucius, "I'll go and see Rimington and ask him to give you another chance. We're rather pals, and he might listen, although it's rather cheek my tackling him."
"Oh, Lucius, if you only would," exclaimed Mr. Binney, grasping his son eagerly by the arm. "I believe he would listen to you. I do really, and it's my only chance. I thought this morning that I shouldn't care to stay at Cambridge any longer after what has happened. But I can't bear the thought of going down like this. It is too awful."
"Of course not," said Lucius. "I'll go at once."
Mr. Rimington was still receiving when Lucius presented himself in his anteroom. After a time he found himself cordially greeted by his father's Tutor, and sat down without an idea as to how he should begin what he had to say.
"I've come about my father," he said, reddening and playing with the tassel of his cap. "I hope you'll give him another chance, sir. It wasn't altogether his fault that all the noise was made last night, and he'll be very careful that it doesn't happen again. It will be rather unpleasant for me if he is sent down," he added.
"Has your father asked you to come to me?" asked Mr. Rimington.
"No," said Lucius, "I come of my own accord."
"Wouldn't you be happier up here if your father were—were at home, Binney?"
"I shouldn't be any happier if people could say he had been sent down. In fact, I don't think I could stand it. He'll keep pretty well in the background after this, I should think, and I don't much mind his being up here if he does that."
"I can't hold out any hopes of our decision being altered," said Mr. Rimington after a pause. "It is not I alone who am responsible for it. But I think that your wishes in the matter should certainly be considered. I can't say more than that at present, and, as I say, your father had better not entertain any hopes of our decision being reversed. If there is anything more to say, I will write to him in London."