"I don't think it is," said Hoffland, and he laughed. "If I would make a good wife, I would make a good husband; and as I have natural doubts upon the latter point, I wish to have them solved. But I weary you—let us part. Good-bye," added Hoffland, with a strange expression of face and tone of voice; "here is my lodging, and you go on to the college."
"No, I think I will go up and sit down a moment."
Hoffland stood still.
"It is strange, but true, that I have never paid you visit," continued Mowbray, "and now I will go and see your quarters."
"Really, my dear Ernest—the fact is—I assure you on my honor—there is nothing to attract——"
Mowbray smiled.
"Never mind," he said, "I will go up, if from nothing else, from simple curiosity."
The singular young man looked exceedingly vexed at this, and did not move.
Mowbray was about to pass with a smile up the steps leading to the door, when an acquaintance came by and stopped a moment to speak to him. Mowbray seemed interested in what he said, and half turned from Hoffland.
No sooner had he done so than the boy placed one cautious foot upon the stone step, looked quickly around, saw that he was unobserved; and entering the house with a bound, ran lightly up the steps, opened the door of his apartment, entered it, closed the door, and disappeared. The sound of the bolt in moving proved that he had locked himself in.