"I couldn't help it, sir. I did my classical papers well enough: it was those infernal mathematics, which I have always neglected."
"Was it—was it done in public, sir?" the major said.
"What?"
"The—the plucking?" asked the guardian, looking Pen anxiously in the face.
Pen perceived the error under which his guardian was laboring, and in the midst of his misery the blunder caused the poor wretch a faint smile, and served to bring down the conversation from the tragedy-key, in which Pen had been disposed to carry it on. He explained to his uncle that he had gone in to pass his examination and failed. On which the major said, that though he had expected far better things of his nephew, there was no great misfortune in this, and no dishonor, as far as he saw, and that Pen must try again.
"Me again at Oxbridge," Pen thought, "after such a humiliation as that!" He felt that, except he went down to burn the place, he could not enter it.
But it was when he came to tell his uncle of his debts that the other felt surprise and anger most keenly, and broke out into speeches most severe upon Pen, which the lad bore, as best he might, without flinching. He had determined to make a clean breast, and had formed a full, true, and complete list of all his bills and liabilities at the University, and in London, They consisted of various items, such as
- London Tailor.
- Oxbridge do.
- Haberdasher, for shirts and gloves.
- Jeweler.
- College Cook.
- Crump, for desserts.
- Bootmaker.
- Wine Merchant in London.
- Oxbridge do.
- Bill for horses.
- Printseller.
- Books.
- Binding.
- Hairdresser and Perfumery.
- Hotel Bill in London.
- Sundries.
All which items the reader may fill in at his pleasure—such accounts have been inspected by the parents of many University youth—and it appeared that Mr. Pen's bills in all amounted to about seven hundred pounds; and, furthermore, it was calculated that he had had more than twice that sum of ready money during his stay at Oxbridge. This sum he had spent, and for it had to show—what?
"You need not press a man who is down, sir," Pen said to his uncle gloomily. "I know very well, sir, how wicked and idle I have been. My mother won't like to see me dishonored, sir," he continued, with his voice failing; "and I know she will pay these accounts. But I shall ask her for no more money."