ouragement, of sympathy.
He expected, at least, something which should resemble a welcome, or a
direction what to do. Nothing of the kind, however, came. While Julian
was awaiting some remark, the tutor shuffled, hemmed, and looked ill at
ease, as though at a loss how to begin the conversation.

At last Julian, in despair, asked, "Whereabouts are my rooms, sir?"

"Oh, the porter will show you; you'll find no difficulty about them,"
said the tutor.

"Have you anything further to ask me, Mr Home?" he inquired, after
another little pause.

"Nothing whatever, sir," said Julian, a little indignantly, for he began
to feel much like what a volcano may be supposed to do when its crater
is filled with snow. "Have you anything to tell me, sir?"

"No, Mr Home. I hope you'll--that is--I hope--good morning," he said,
as Julian, to relieve him from an unprofitable commonplace, backed
towards the door, and made a formal bow.

"Humph," thought Julian. "What an icicle; not much good to be got out
of that quarter. An intolerably cold reception. It's odd, too, for the
man must have heard all about me from Mr Carden."

As we shall have very little to do with Mr Grayson, we may here allow
him a cordial word of apology. What was to Julian the commencement of
an epoch, was, be it remembered, to the tutor a commonplace and almost
everyday event. The whole of that week he had been occupied in
receiving visits from "the early fathers," who came up in charge of
their sons, and all of whom seemed to expect that he would show the
liveliest and tenderest interest in their respective prodigies. Other
freshmen had visited him unaccompanied, and some of them seemed rather
inclined to patronise him than otherwise. He was a shy man, and always
had a painful suspicion at heart that people were laughing at him.
Having lived the life of a student, he had never acquired the polished
ease of a man of the world, and had a nervous dread of strangers. His
manners were but an icy shield of self-defence against ridicule, and
they suited his somewhat sensitive dignity. He persuaded himself, too,
that the "men" on his side were "men" in years and discretion as well as
name, and that they must stand or fall unaided, since the years of
boyish discipline and school constraint were gone by. It never occurred
to him that a word spoken in due season might be of incalculable benefit
to many of his charge. Being a man of slow sensibilities, he could no