“I was so ashamed, Julian,” he said, “so utterly and unspeakably ashamed to hear the rudeness of these men as we came out of hall. I’m afraid you must have felt deeply hurt.”
“Yes, for the moment; but I’m sorry that I took even a moment’s notice of it. Why should one be ruffled because others are unfeeling and impertinent; it is their misfortune, not ours.”
“But why did you come up as a sizar, Julian? Surely with Lonstead Abbey as your inheritance—”
“No,” said Julian with a smile; “I am lord of my leisure, and no land beside.”
“Really! I had always looked on you as a future neighbour and helper.”
He was too delicate to make any inquiries on the subject, but while a bright airy vision rose for an instant before Julian’s fancy, and then died away, his friend said, with ingenuous embarrassment:
“You know, Home, I am very rich. In truth, I have far more money than I know what to do with. It only troubles me. I wish—”
“Oh, dear no!” said Julian hastily; “I got the Newry scholarship, you know, at Harton, and I really need no assistance whatever.”
“I hope I haven’t offended you; how unlucky I am,” said De Vayne blushing.
“Not a whit, De Vayne; I know your kind heart.”