CHAPTER XVII.
In which a Professor professes nothing, a Lecture is not delivered, and yet something happens.
It was the morrow Wednesday, in London, at Galton's Rooms, and near five o'clock.
Professor Higginson was feeling exceedingly nervous. He came into the little room where it was customary to receive the Lecturer when the Research Club organised one of its great functions at Galton's, and he was not overpleased to see three gentlemen waiting for him. He had hoped there would be no one but a servant, or at the most the secretary. He was holding a little brown bag in his hand. It contained his MSS. and a cap and gown. He asked whether he was to wear his cap and gown.
"O—O—ah! I suppose so, what?" said one of the gentlemen who was beautifully groomed, and had iron grey hair, and what is more wore a single eye-glass.
"That 's all right, Biggleton, isn't it?"
He turned to a very portly man, quite bald,
