be with which we succeed in bracing
ourselves to meet or disregard unpleasantness, the force of those
arguments seldom or never outlasts the frame of mind in which they are
composed, and when the unpleasantness is at hand, there we are, just as
unreasonably alarmed at it as ever.

Mr. Bultitude's confidence faded away almost as soon as he found himself
in the schoolroom again. He found himself assigned to a class at one end
of the room, where Mr. Tinkler presently introduced a new rule in
Algebra to them, in such a manner as to procure for it a lasting
unpopularity with all those who were not too much engaged in drawing
duels and railway trains upon their slates to attend.

Although Paul did not draw upon his slate, his utter ignorance of
Algebra prevented him from being much edified by the cabalistic signs on
the blackboard, which Mr. Tinkler seemed to chalk up dubiously, and rub
out again as soon as possible, with an air of being ashamed of them. So
he tried to nerve himself for the coming ordeal by furtively watching
and studying the Doctor, who was taking a Xenophon class at the upper
end of the room, and, being in fairly good humour, was combining
instruction with amusement in a manner peculiarly his own.

He stopped the construing occasionally to illustrate some word or
passage by an anecdote; he condescended to enliven the translation here
and there by a familiar and colloquial paraphrase; he magnanimously
refrained from pressing any obviously inconvenient questions; and his
manner generally was marked by a geniality which was additionally
piquant from its extreme uncertainty.

Mr. Bultitude could not help thinking it a rather ghastly form of
gaiety, but he hoped it might last.

Presently, however, some one brought him a blue envelope on a tray. He
read it, and a frown gathered on his face. The boy who was translating
at the time went on again in his former slipshod manner (which had
hitherto provoked only jovial criticism and correction) with complete
self-complacency, but found himself sternly brought to book, and
burdened by a heavy imposition, before he quite realised that his
blunders had ceased to amuse.

Then began a season of sore trial and tribulation for the class. The
Doctor suddenly withdrew the light of his countenance from them, and
sunshine was succeeded by blackest thunderclouds. The wind was no longer
tempered to the more closely shorn of the flock; the weakest vessels
were put on unexpec