In the warm June weather young Angleside went up to pass his examination for entrance at Trinity.

There is nothing particularly interesting or worthy of note in that simple process, though at that time the custom of imposing an examination had only been recently imported from Oxford.

For one whole day forty or fifty young fellows from all parts of the country sat at the long dining-tables in the beautiful old hall and wrote as busily as they could, answering the printed questions before them, and eyeing each other curiously from time to time.

The weather was warm and sultry, the trees were all in full leaf and Cambridge was deserted.

Only a few hard-reading men, who stayed up during the Long, wandered out with books at the backs of the colleges or strayed slowly through the empty courts, objects of considerable interest to the youths who had come up for the entrance examination--chiefly pale men in rather shabby clothes with old gowns and battered caps, and a general appearance of being the worse for wear.
Angleside had been in Cambridge before and consequently lost no time in returning to Billingsfield when the examination was over.