not learned yet how sensitive I am!"

And Hoffland turned away.

"Really, I am dealing with a child," murmured Mowbray; "let me summon
all my patience."

And he said aloud:

"My dear Hoffland, I am not one of those men who make violent
protestations and feel sudden and excessive friendships. Friendship,
with me, is a tree of slow growth; and I even now wonder at the
position you have been able to take in my regard, upon such a slight
acquaintance. There is a frank word--all words between friends should
be frank. There, I call you my friend--you are such: does that please
you?"

"Oh, very much," said Hoffland, smiling and banishing his sad
expression instantly; "I know you are the noblest and most sincere of
men."

And the boy held out to his companion a small hand, which returned the
pressure of Mowbray's slightly, and was then quietly withdrawn.

"Well, now," said Mowbray, "let us come back to this affair. Denis
will send you a challenge?"

"He says so."

"Well; then he will keep his promise."

"Or course he will act as a man of honor throughout," said Hoffland,
laughing; "I am sure of that, because he is your friend."

"Pray drop these polite speeches, and let us talk plainly."

"Very well, Ernest; but Denis is a good fellow, eh?" asked Hoffland,
smiling.

"Yes."

"Brave?"

"Wholly fearless."

"A good swordsman!"

"Very."

"And with the pistol?" asked Hoffland, laughing.

"The best shot in college," returned Mowbray, pleased in spite of
himself at finding his companion so calm and smiling.

Hoffland placed his thumb absently upon his chin--leaned upon it, and
after a moment's reflection said in a business tone:

"I think I'll choose swords."

"You fence?"

"I? Why, my dear Ernest, have you never seen me with a foil in my
hand?"

"Never."

"Indeed? Well, I fence like the admirable Crichton himself. It was
some allusion to that celebrated gentleman, in connection with myself,
by the by, which excited Mr. Denis's anger."

"How, pray?"

"Well, well, it would embarrass me to explain. Let us dismiss Mr.
Crichton. My mind is made up--I choose short-swords, for I was always
afraid of pistols."

Mowbray looked with curiosity at his companion.

"Afraid?" he said.

"Yes, indeed," replied Hoffland; "you will not believe me, but I never
could fire a pistol or a gun without shutting my eyes, and dropping it
when it went off!"

With which words Hoffland burst into laughter.

Mowbray