ou are
right, Ernest; the morning, as you say, is lovely." Or when Mowbray
would say, "Charles, you are incorrigible;" "Yes," Hoffland would
reply, with his winning smile, "I knew how much you liked me."

On the fine morning to which we have now arrived, the conversation of
the friends took exactly this direction. Hoffland for two or three
days had obstinately kept away from the college, and "non est
inventus" was the substance of the proctor's return when he was sent
to drum up the absent student.

"Indeed, Charles," said Mowbray, with his calm sadness, "you should
not thus allow your time to be absorbed in indolent lounging. A man
has his career in the world to run, and college is the threshold. If
you enter the world ignorant and awkward--and the greatest genius is
awkward if ignorant--you will find the mere fops of the day pass you
in the course. They may be superficial, shallow, but they have
cultivated their natural gifts, while you have not done so. They enter
gracefully, and succeed; you will enter awkwardly, and fail."

"A fine Mentor you are!" replied Hoffland; "and I ought to be duly
grateful for your excellent advice."

"It is that of a friend."

"I know it."

"A very true friend."

"Yes," Hoffland said, "I am convinced that your friendship for me is
very true. Strange you should like me so!"

"I think not: you are by yourself here, and I am naturally attracted
always by inexperience. I find great freshness of thought and feeling
in you, Charles----"

"Do you?"

"And more still," said Mowbray, smiling sadly; "I think you love me."

"Indeed?" said Hoffland, turning away his face.

"Yes; you gravitated toward me; but I equally to yourself. And now I
think you begin to have a sincere affection for me."

"_Begin_, indeed!"

Mowbray smiled.

"I am glad you liked me from the first then," he said. "I am sure I
cannot explain my sudden liking for yourself."

"But I can," said Hoffland, laughing; "we were congenial, my dear
fellow--chips of the same block--companions of similar tastes. You
liked what was graceful and elegant, which, of course you found in me.
I have always experienced a passionate longing for truth and nobility;
and this, Ernest, I find in you!"

Hoffland's tone had lost all its banter as he uttered these words; and
if Mowbray had seen the look which the boy timidly cast upon his pale
countenance, he would have started.

But Hoffland regained his lightness almost immediately;