Read Online Born in Exile by George Gissing - Free Book Online Page B

Notwithstanding his
noteworthy success in two classes, it seemed to him that he had
lost everything—that the day was one of signal and disgraceful
defeat. In any case that sequence of second prizes must have filled
him with chagrin, but to be beaten thus repeatedly by such a fellow
as Bruno Chilvers was humiliation intolerable. A fopling, a mincer
of effeminate English, a rote-repeater of academic catchwords—bah!
The by-examinations of the year had whispered presage, but Peak
always felt that he was not putting forth his strength; when the
serious trial came he would show what was really in him. Too late
he recognised his error, though he tried not to admit it. The extra
subjects had exacted too much of him; there was a limit to his
powers. Within the College this would be well enough understood,
but to explain a disagreeable fact is not to change it; his name
was written in pitiful subordination. And as for the public
assembly—he would have sacrificed some years of his life to have
stepped forward in facile supremacy, beneath the eyes of those
clustered ladies. Instead of that, they had looked upon his shame;
they had interchanged glances of amusement at each repetition of
his defeat; had murmured comments in their melodious speech; had
ended by losing all interest in him—as intuition apprised him was
the wont of women.
    As soon as he had escaped from his uncle, he relapsed into
musing upon the position to which he was condemned when the new
session came round. Again Chilvers would be in the same classes
with him, and, as likely as not, with the same result. In the
meantime, they were both 'going in' for the First B.A.; he had no
fear of failure, but it might easily happen that Chilvers would
achieve higher distinction. With an eye to awards that might be
won—substantial cash-annuities—he was reading for Honours; but it
seemed doubtful whether he could present himself, as the second
examination was held only in London. Chilvers would of course be an
Honours candidate. He would smile—confound him!—at an objection on
the score of the necessary journey to London. Better to refrain
altogether than again to see Chilvers come out ahead. General
surprise would naturally be excited, questions asked on all hands.
How would it sound: 'I simply couldn't afford to go up'—?
    At this point of the meditation he had reached his lodgings; he
admitted himself with a latch-key, turned into his murky
sitting-room, and sat down.
    The table was laid for tea, as usual. Though he might have gone
to Twybridge this evening, he had preferred to stay overnight, for
an odd reason. At a theatre in Kingsmill a London company, headed
by an actress of some distinction, was to perform Romeo and
Juliet , and he purposed granting himself this indulgence before
leaving the town. The plan was made when his eye fell upon the
advertisement, a few days ago. He then believed it probable that an
evening at the theatre would appropriately follow upon a day of
victory. His interest in the performance had collapsed, but he did
not care to alter his arrangements.
    The landlady came in bearing the tea-pot. 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