re for is the credit of the college?" But he was
not so barbarous as to say this, and Warrender was left to find out by
himself, by the lessening number of the breakfasts, by the absence of
his name on the lists of the Rector's dinner-parties, by the gradual
cooling of the incubating warmth, what had been the foundation of all
the affection shown him. It was not for some time that he perceived the
change which made itself slowly apparent, the gradual loss of interest
in him who had been the object of so much interest. The nest was, so to
speak, left cold, no father bird lending his aid to the development; his
books were no longer forced on his consideration; his tutor no longer
made anxious remarks. Like other silly younglings, the lad for a while
rejoiced in his freedom, and believed that he had succeeded in making
his pastors and teachers aware of a better way. And it was not till
there flashed upon him the awful revelation that _they were taking up
Brunson_, that he began to see the real state of affairs. Brunson was
the all-round man whom Sixth Form despised,--a fellow who had little or
no taste for the higher scholarship, but who always knew his books by
heart, mastering everything that would "pay" with a determined practical
faculty fertile of results. There is no one for whom the dilettante mind
has a greater contempt; and when Warrender saw that Brunson figured at
the Rector's dinner-parties as he himself had once done, that it was
Brunson who went on the river with parties of young dons and walked out
of college arm in arm with his tutor, the whole meaning of his own brief
advancement burst upon him. Not for himself, as he had supposed in the
youthful simplicity which he called vanity now, and characterised by
strong adjectives; not in the least for him, Theo Warrender, scholar and
gentleman, but for what he might bring to the college,--the honours, the
scholarships, the credit to everybody concerned in producing a successful
student. That he became angry, scornful, and Byronic on the spot need
surprise nobody. Brunson! who never had come within a hundred miles of him
or of his set at school; did not even understand the fine problems which
the initiated love to discuss; was nothing but a plodding fellow, who
stuck to his work, and cared no more for the real soul of Greek literature
or philosophy than the scout did. Warrender laughed aloud,--that hollow
laugh, which was once so grand an exponent of feeling, and whi