es of thinly-buttered bread, which
a page handed round together with tumblers of water; and Paul, in his
disappointment, refused this refreshment with more firmness than
politeness, as Dr. Grimstone observed.

"You got into trouble last term, Bultitude," he said sternly, "on
account of this same fastidious daintiness. Your excellent father has
informed me of your waste and gluttony at his own bountifully spread
table. Don't let me have occasion to reprove you for this again."

Mr. Bultitude, feeling the necessity of propitiating him, hastened to
take the two largest squares of bread and butter on the plate. They were
moist and thick, and he had considerable difficulty in disposing of
them, besides the gratification of hearing himself described as a "pig"
by his neighbours, who reproved him with a refreshing candour.

"I must get away from here," he thought, ruefully. "Dick seems very
unpopular. I wish I didn't feel so low-spirited and unwell. Why can't I
carry it off easily as--as a kind of joke? How hard these forms are, and
how those infernal boys did jog my back!"

Bedtime came at length. The boys filed, one by one, out of the room, and
the Doctor stood by the door to shake hands with them as they passed.

Mr. Bultitude lingered until the others had gone, for he had made up his
mind to seize this opportunity to open the Doctor's eyes to the mistake
he was making. But he felt unaccountably nervous; the diplomatic and
well-chosen introduction he had carefully prepared had left him at the
critical moment; all power of thought was gone with it, and he went
tremblingly up to the schoolmaster, feeling hopelessly at the mercy of
anything that chose to come out of his mouth.

"Dr. Grimstone," he began; "before retiring I--I must insist--I mean I
must request---- What I wish to say is----"

"I see," said the Doctor, catching him up sharply. "You wish to
apologise for your extraordinary behaviour in the railway carriage?
Well, though you made some amends afterwards, an apology is very right
and proper. Say no more about it."

"It's not that," said Paul hopelessly; "I wanted to explain----"

"Your conduct with regard to the bread and butter? If it was simply
want of appetite, of course there is no more to be said. But I have an
abhorrence of----"

"Quite right," said Paul, recovering himself; "I hate waste myself, but
there is something I must tell you before----"

"If it concerns that disgraceful conduct of Coker's