sunshine as Kingsmill might at this season temperately desire; then,
whilst the marble figure was getting dried,--with soot-stains
which already foretold its negritude of a year hence,--again
streamed towards the College a varied multitude, official, parental,
pupillary. The students had nothing distinctive in their garb, but
here and there flitted the cap and gown of Professor or lecturer,
signal for doffing of beavers along the line of its progress.

Among the more deliberate of the throng was a slender, upright,
ruddy-cheeked gentleman of middle age, accompanied by his wife and a
daughter of sixteen. On alighting from a carriage, they first of all
directed their steps towards the statue, conversing together with
pleasant animation. The father (Martin Warricombe, Esq. of Thornhaw,
a small estate some five miles from Kingsmill,) had a countenance
suggestive of engaging qualities--genial humour, mildness, a turn
for meditation, perhaps for study. His attire was informal, as if he
disliked abandoning the freedom of the country even when summoned to
urban ceremonies. He wore a grey felt hat, and a light jacket which
displayed the straightness of his shoulders. Mrs. Warricombe and her
daughter were more fashionably equipped, with taste which proclaimed
their social standing. Save her fresh yet delicate complexion the
lady had no particular personal charm. Of the young girl it could
only be said that she exhibited a graceful immaturity, with
perchance a little more earnestness than is common at her age; her
voice, even when she spoke gaily, was seldom audible save by the
person addressed.

Coming to a pause before Sir Job, Mr. Warricombe put on a pair of
eyeglasses which had dangled against his waistcoat, and began to
scrutinise carefully the sculptured lineaments. He was addressing