He wanted nothing, yet could not exert himself to say so.
But he was losing sight of a menace more formidable than defeat by Chilvers.

What was it his blackguard uncle had said?
Had the fellow really threatened to start an eating-house opposite the College, and flare his name upon a placard?
'Peak's Dining and Refreshment Rooms'-- merciful heavens! Again the mood of laughter came upon him.

Why, here was a solution of all difficulties, as simple as unanticipated.

If indeed that awful thing came to pass, farewell to Whitelaw! What possibility of pursuing his studies when every class-companion, every Professor,--nay, the very porters,--had become aware that he was nephew to the man who supplied meals over the way?
Moral philosophy had no prophylactic against an ordeal such as this.

Could the most insignificant lad attending lectures afford to disregard such an occasion of ridicule and contempt?
But the scheme would not be realised; it sounded too unlikely.