“Ah, is it indeed Randal Leslie?”
Frank was off his horse in a moment, and the bridle was consigned to the care of a slim ‘prentice-boy holding a bundle.
“My dear fellow, how glad I am to see you. How lucky it was that I should turn in here. Not like me either, for I don’t much care for a ducking. Staying in town, Randal?”
“Yes; at your uncle’s, Mr. Egerton. I have left Oxford.”
“For good?”
“For good.”
“But you have not taken your degree, I think? We Etonians all considered you booked for a double-first. Oh, we have been so proud of your fame,—you carried off all the prizes.”
“Not all; but some, certainly. Mr. Egerton offered me my choice,—to stay for my degree, or to enter at once into the Foreign Office. I preferred the end to the means. For, after all, what good are academical honours but as the entrance to life? To enter now is to save a step in a long way, Frank.”
“Ah, you were always ambitious, and you will make a great figure, I am sure.”
“Perhaps so—if I work for it. Knowledge is power.” Leonard started.