at's that mean? Are they
v-v-very big f-f-fellows?"

"Ha! ha! ha!" said Bruce. "No; they're sons of gyps and that kind of
thing, who feed on the semese fragments of the high table."

"They must be g-g-ghouls!" said his lordship, shudderingly.

"Hush," said D'Acres, who was a thorough gentleman, "some of the sizars
may be here;" and he dropped Bruce's arm.

"Pooh! they'll feel flattered," said Bruce carelessly, as D'Acres walked
off.

"Indeed!" said Julian, striding indignantly forward, for the
conversation was so loud that he had heard every word of it. "Flattered
to be the butt for the insolence of puppyism and every fool who is
coarse enough to insult them publicly."

"Who the d-d-d-deuce are you?" said Lord Fitzurse, "for you're coming it
r-r-rather strong."

"Who is he?" said Lillyston, breaking in, "your equal, sir, in birth, as
he is your superior in intellect, and in every moral quality.
Gentlemen," he continued, "let me warn you not to have the impertinence
to talk in this way again."

"Warn us!" said Bruce, trying to hide under bravado his crestfallen
temper; "why, what'll you do if we choose to continue?"

"Make a few counter-remarks to begin with, Bruce, on parasites and
parvenus, tuft-hunting freshmen, and the tenth transmitters of a foolish
face," retorted Lillyston, glowing with honest indignation.

"And turn you out of the butteries by the shoulders," said a strong
undergraduate, who had chanced to be a witness of the scene. "A
somewhat boyish proceeding, perhaps, but exactly suited to some
capacities."

Bruce and his friends, seeing that they were beginning to have the worst
of it, thought it about time to swagger off, and for the future learnt
to confine their remarks to a more exclusive circle.

There had been another silent spectator of the scene in the person of
Lord De Vayne. He was a young viscount whose estate bordered on the
grounds of Lonstead Abbey, and he had known Julian since both of them
were little boys. He had been entirely educated at home with an
excellent tutor, who had filled his mind with all wise and generous
sentiments; but his widowed mother lived in such complete seclusion that
he had rarely entered the society of any of his own age, and was
consequently timid and bashful. Meeting sometimes with Julian, he had
conceived a warm admiration for his genius and character, and at one
time had earnestly wished to join him at Harton. But his mother was so
distress