“Ah, I think it’s fully up to the occasion,” said the girl, catching the spirit of his amiable satisfaction.  “Is it the usual Class Day weather?”

“You spoil everything by asking that,” cried the young man; “it obliges me to make a confession—­it’s always good weather on Class Day.  There haven’t been more than a dozen bad Class Days in the century.  But you’ll admit that there can’t have been a better Class Day than this?”

“Oh yes; it’s certainly the pleasantest Class Day I’ve seen;” said the girl; and now when Mavering laughed she laughed too.

“Thank you so much for saying that!  I hope it will pass off in unclouded brilliancy; it will, if I can make it.  Why, hallo!  They’re on the other side of the street yet, and looking about as if they were lost.”

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, and waved it at the others of their party.

They caught sight of it, and came hurrying over through the dust.

Mrs. Saintsbury said, apparently as the sum of her consultations with Mrs. Pasmer:  “The Tree is to be at half-past five; and after we’ve seen a few spreads, I’m going to take the ladies hone for a little rest.”

“Oh no; don’t do that,” pleaded the young man.  After making this protest he seemed not to have anything to say immediately in support of it.  He merely added:  “This is Miss Pasmer’s first Class Day, and I want her to see it all.”

“But you’ll have to leave us very soon to get yourself ready for the Tree” suggested the Professor’s lady, with a motherly prevision.

“I shall want just fifteen minutes for that.”

“I know, better, Mr. Mavering,” said Mrs. Saintsbury, with finality.  “You will want a good three-quarters of an hour to make yourself as disreputable as you’ll look at the Tree; and you’ll have to take time for counsel and meditation.  You may stay with us just half an hour, and then we shall part inexorably.  I’ve seen a great many more Class Days than you have, and I know what they are in their demands upon the Seniors.”

“Oh; well!  Then we won’t think about the time,” said the young man, starting on with Miss Pasmer.

“Well, don’t undertake too much,” said the lady.  She came last in the little procession, with the elder Mavering, and her husband and Mrs Pasmer preceded her.

“What?” young Mavering called back, with his smiling face over his shoulder.

“She says not to bite off more than you can chew,” the professor answered for her.

Mavering broke into a conscious laugh, but full of delight, and with his handkerchief to his face had almost missed the greeting of some ladies who bowed to him.  He had to turn round to acknowledge it, and he was saluting and returning salutations pretty well all along the line of their progress.

“I’m afraid you’ll think I’m everybody’s friend but my own, Miss Pasmer, but I assure you all this is purely accidental.  I don’t know so many people, after all; only all that I do know seem to be here this morning.”