Such other spectacles as we proposed to view lay more or less close together, and could be inspected more conveniently without the car, which claimed the constant vigilance of one of us just at the very times we least could spare it.
Fortified by the deference shown him by his scout, whom we had encountered while visiting his old rooms overlooking the Deer Park, my brother-in-law had in some measure succeeded—so far as Jill and Agatha were concerned—in investing his sojourn at Magdalen with an ill-merited dignity; and Daphne, Jonah and I were quite justifiably delighted when a prosperous-looking individual, with a slip in his waistcoat and a diamond ring, left his table and laid a fat hand familiarly upon Berry's shoulder.
"Hullo, Pleydell, old man. How's things? Don't remember me, I suppose. Lewis." He mentioned the name of the minor college he had once adorned. "You were at Magdalen, weren't you?"
Taken completely by surprise, Berry hesitated before replying in a tone which would have chilled a glacier.
"Er—yes. I'm afraid my memory's not as good as yours. You must excuse me."
"That's all right," said the other, with a fat laugh. "I was one of the quiet little mice," he added archly, "and you were always such a gay dog." To our indescribable delectation he actually thrust a stubby forefinger into his victim's ribs.
"Er—yes," said Berry, moving his chair as far from his tormentor as space would permit. "I suppose you were. One of the mice, I think you said. You know, I still don't seem to remember your face or name. You're quite sure...."
"Anno Domini," was the cheerful reply. "We're both older, eh? Don't you remember the night we all——But p'r'aps I oughtn't to tell tales out of school, ought I, old bean?" Again the forefinger was employed, and its owner looked round expectantly. Beads of perspiration became visible upon Berry's forehead, and Jonah and I burst into a roar of laughter.
Greatly encouraged by our mirth, Mr. Lewis beamed with geniality, and, slapping Berry upon the back with the diamond ring, commended the good old times, observed that the undergraduates of to-day were of a very different class to "me and you," and added that England was in such a rotten state that, if the Coal Controller had not personally begged him to "carry on," he would have "up stick and cleared out to Australia long ago."
At his concluding words Daphne sat up as if she had been shot. Then, administering to me a kick, which she afterwards explained had been intended for Berry, she smiled very charmingly.