mingled in a ~conversazione~. A nucleus of vivacious intercourse
formed at the spot where young Mr. Chilvers stood amid trophies of
examinational prowess. When his numerous relatives had all shaken
hands with him, and laughed, smiled, or smirked their felicitations,
they made way for the press of eager acquaintances. His prize
library was reverently surveyed, and many were the sportive sallies
elicited by the victor's obvious inability to carry away what he had
won. Suavely exultant, ready with his reply to every flattering
address, Bruno Chilvers exhibited a social tact in advance of his
years: it was easy to imagine what he would become when Oxford terms
and the seal of ordination had matured his youthful promise.

At no great distance stood his competitor, Godwin Peak embarrassed,
he also, with wealth of spoils; but about this young man was no
concourse of admiring kinsfolk. No lady offered him her hand or
shaped compliments for him with gracious lips. Half-a-dozen
fellow-students, among them John Earwaker, talked in his vicinity of
the day's results. Peak's part in the gossip was small, and when he
smiled it was in a forced, anxious way, with brief raising of his
eyes. For a moment only was the notice of a wider circle directed
upon him when Dr Nares, moving past with a train of colloquial
attendants, turned aside to repeat his praise of the young man's
achievements in Philosophy: he bestowed a kindly shake of the hand,
and moved on.

The Warricombe group descended, in purposeless fashion, towards the
spot where Chilvers held his court. Their personal acquaintance with
Bruno and his family was slight, and though Mrs. Warricombe would
gladly have pushed forward to claim recognition, natural diffidence
restrained her. Sidwell kept in the rear, risking now and then a