an? Surely with Lonstead Abbey
as your inheritance--"

"No," said Julian with a smile; "I am lord of my leisure, and no land
beside."

"Really! I had always looked on you as a future neighbour and helper."

He was too delicate to make any inquiries on the subject, but while a
bright airy vision rose for an instant before Julian's fancy, and then
died away, his friend said, with ingenuous embarrassment:

"You know, Home, I am very rich. In truth, I have far more money than I
know what to do with. It only troubles me. I wish--"

"Oh, dear no!" said Julian hastily; "I got the Newry scholarship, you
know, at Harton, and I really need no assistance whatever."

"I hope I haven't offended you; how unlucky I am," said De Vayne
blushing.

"Not a whit, De Vayne; I know your kind heart."

"Well, do let me see something of you. Won't you come a walk sometimes,
or let me come in of an evening when you're taking tea, and not at
work?"

"Do," said Julian, and they agreed to meet at his rooms on the following
Sunday evening.

Sunday at Camford was a happy day for Julian Home. It was a day of
perfect leisure and rest; the time not spent at church or in the society
of others, he generally occupied in taking a longer walk than usual, or
in the luxuries of solemn and quiet thought. But the greatest enjoyment
was to revel freely in books, and devote himself unrestrained to the
gorgeous scenes of poetry, or the passionate pages of eloquent men; on
that day he drank deeply of pure streams that refreshed him for his
weekly work; nor did he forget some hour of commune, in the secrecy of
his chamber and the silence of his heart, with that God and Father in
whom alone he trusted, and to whom alone he looked for deliverance from
difficulty, and guidance under temptation. Of all hours his happiest
and strongest were those in which he was alone--alone except for a
heavenly presence, sitting at the feet of a Friend, and looking face to
face upon himself.

He had been reading Wordsworth since hall-time, when the ringing of the
chapel-bell summoned him to put on his surplice, and walk quietly down
to chapel. As there was plenty of time, he took a stroll or two across
the court before going in. While doing so, he met De Vayne, and in his
company suddenly found himself vis-a-vis with his old enemy Brogten.

"Hm!" whispered Brogten to his companion; "the sizars are getting on. A
sizar and a viscount arm-in-arm!"

Julian only h