"It is a sadder sort of face than it used to he. Are you quite well?"
"Yes, I am well. I don't know that I am strong. Good-bye for now," hastily added Mr. Henry. "Mr. Long has told you where to go."
The boy continued his way up the cloister, and another ran up to Mr. Henry—a second-desk boy named Powell.
"I say, sir, do you know that new fellow?"
"I used to know him," replied Mr. Henry. "But I have not seen him for several years."
"Lamb says he thinks he is an outsider. I like the look of him. Where did you know him, Mr. Henry?"
"At the Heidelberg University. He was a young pupil there, when I was a junior master."
Mr. Powell's face grew considerably longer. "At the Heidelberg University! Does he speak German?"
"He used to speak it perfectly. I dare say he does still."
"That's blue, though," was the rejoinder. "I'm going in for the German prize: but who can stand against a fellow who has been in Germany? He's sure to be at our desk. What's his name, sir?"