him with perfect gravity.

"What can there be in your look, Brown?" said Hardy, when he
could speak again, "to frighten Grey so? Did you see what a
fright he was in at once, at the idea of turning you into the
night schools? There must be some lurking Protestantism in your
face somewhere, which I hadn't detected."

"I don't believe he was frightened at me a bit. He wouldn't have
you either, remember," said Tom.

"Well, at any rate, that doesn't look as if it were all mere
Gothic-mouldings and man-millinery, does it?" said Hardy.

Tom sipped his tea, and considered.

"One can't help admiring him, do you know, for it," he said. "Do
you think he is really thrown back, now, in his own reading by
this teaching?"

"I'm sure of it. He is such a quiet fellow, that nothing else is
likely to draw him off reading; I can see that he doesn't get on
as he used, day by day. Unless he makes it up somehow, he won't
get his first."

"He don't seem to like the teaching work much," said Tom.

"Not at all, so far as I can see."

"Then it is a very fine thing of him," said Tom.

"And you retract your man-millinery dictum, so far as he is
concerned?"

"Yes, that I do, heartily; but not as to the set in general."

"Well, they don't suit me either; but, on the whole, they are
wanted--at any rate, in this college. Even the worst of them is
making some sort of protest for self-denial, and against
self-indulgence, which is nowhere more needed than here."

"A nice sort of protest--muslin curtains, a piano, and old
claret."

"Oh, you've no right to count Henden among them; he has only a
little hankering after mediaevalism, and thinks the whole thing
gentlemanly."

"I only know the whole clamjamfery of them were there, and didn't
seem to protest much."

"Brown, you're a bigot. I should never have thought you would
have been so furious against any set of fellows, I begin to smell
Arnold."

"No you don't. He never spoke to me against anybody."

"Hallo! It was the Rugby atmosphere, then, I suppose. But I tell
you they are the only men in the college who are making that
protest, whatever their motives may be."

"What do you say to yourself, old fellow?"

"Nonsense! I never deny myself any pleasure that I can afford, if
it isn't wrong in itself, and doesn't hinder anyone else. I can
tell you I am as fond of fine things and good living as you."

"If a thing isn't wrong, and you can afford it, and it doesn't
hurt anybody! Just