Three weeks later The Freak came up to town for his Easter vacation, anddined with me at my club, and I heard the end of the tale.
Nothing very dreadful had happened, it appeared. Mr. Wickham, havinglaconically accepted full responsibility for the riot in his rooms, hadbeen gated at eight for the rest of the term. The fact that I hadordered the dinner was unknown to the Proctors, and the College cook hadnot enlightened them. The identity of the Marquis of Puddox, the JuniorEgyptologist, and the Assistant Professor of Comparative Theology hadnever been discovered.
"So your guilty secret, old thing," concluded Dicky, "is safe. And nowI want to invite you to another function."
"Thank you," I said gruffly, "but I think not. What sort of function isit this time?"
"A wedding," replied Dicky unexpectedly.
"Great Scott! Yours?"
"No--The Jebber's! He has grown quite a white man. The little homilywhich I took the liberty of delivering to him that evening, coupled withthe very light sentence imposed, quite won his heart, it appears. Henever leaves me now. Eats out of my hand. He is going down at the endof the May term like a sensible Jebber, and he is to be married to hisgirl in June."
"The girl of the photograph?"
"Yes. He has quite got over his wild-oats theories, and his girl nowhas him completely in hand. I have seen them together, and I know. Theyare very happy."
My romantic friend sighed comfortably, and concluded:--
"I have promised to be best man."
"You?"
"Yes; he asked me, and one can't decline. You are coming with me,fellow-sport, to represent the Senior Members of the University!"
I went. No one ever refuses anything to The Freak.