For a moment he wished the gown had been long enough to conceal the patch on the knee of his trousers, but the next he laughed at himself for his vanity.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of," thought he, "and if it _is_ patched--well, it is." And thus consoling himself, he accompanied the doctor across the quadrangle.
Men certainly did stare at him as he passed, and some of them deemed him a queer "specimen," and others wondered what Saint George's was coming to.

But my master, if he noticed their looks, disregarded them, and as for Dr Wilkins, he smiled to himself to think how prone mankind is to judge by appearances.
"Unless I mistake," mused he to himself, "these young sparks of Saint George's will some day think fit to be proud of their poor fellow- collegian." The two made the tour of the college, and finished up with the grand old Gothic chapel.

It was easy to guess why George's face lit up as he approached the place.

The deep notes of an organ were sounding across the quadrangle, and as they entered the door a flood of harmony swept towards them down the long aisles.

Dr Wilkins could feel the boy's arm tremble, and heard the sigh of delight which escaped his lips.