CHAPTER III.
It was not very long after this evening walk that John found himself in a company of the very élite of his college. They knew themselves to be the élite, and that was enough for them. Sometimes their claim to this place was rudely assailed by outsiders; sometimes it was the subject of mockery: but this mattered very little to the certainty which filled their youthful bosoms. They did not sit upon tables and hang out of windows like the others. The table in the centre of the room was strewn with prints, with photographs from pictures, and curiosities of all kinds. There was a little Tanagra figure on the mantelpiece, holding a central place in its little shrine of red velvet, and other ornaments of equal refinement arranged with the greatest care on either side. On the wall above, usually occupied by an imbecile mirror, was a round picture which Lord Scarfield, the owner of the rooms, who had a lisp, sometimes talked of as "my Tondo" and sometimes as "my Bottithelli." It was but a copy, I need not say, but it came a great deal into his conversation. He himself sat in an antique chair with a high back, at one side of the fireplace, and his little colourless head, with its very light hair, stood out almost like an ivory from the dark damask. He was aware of the fact and liked it, and so were the other habitués of these rooms aware of it, feeling themselves called upon to be struck by this, as they came in one by one, and nodded at their host, and sat down somewhere within reach of the table if they could, if not in twos and little groups round the wall, where a number of abstruse conversations went on, chiefly about art, but likewise upon social subjects. John had been drawn into this supreme company chiefly on the score that he knew something practically of art, though they thought in a rude way, without a due sense of its fine affinities and symbolisms—but yet with a vulgar, practical acquaintance which no doubt counted for something. When he went in Scarfield was giving a description of that meeting with the Warden which John's other friends had watched from the window.
"He ith always very thivil," said the little lord, "but I had every reathon to expect a row. Peterth made me a thign to cut and run—but why thould I cut and run? The Bruither is a perthonage in his way—and Thortles loves a perthonage. I was very punctual after Hall—likes you to be punctual, Thortles doth. Thaid he was very thorry to thee me in thuch company. 'Why, thir?' I thaid. Thortles taken aback by that. 'Why thir! do I need to thay why?' 'Yeth thir, pleath,' thaid I, and I waited for an answer. Never thaw a man more done in my life."
"Chortles like a nettle, soft as silk," cried another, losing the thread of his metaphor, "when you face him out."
"It wathn't that," said Scarfield; "it wath theething the kid in his mother'th milk—that's what it was. Very fond of talking to me about my influence and tho forth. 'You tell me, thir,' thaid I, 'to exercise a good influence. Can't do that without knowing men of all thorts, thir, don't you know? Bruither's a very thelect thort. Had a very improving conversation—lotth of information in it. Know his thort quite well now. Able to exercise influence. Just your own line, thir; what you've always thaid——"
"Bravo, Scarfield!" said his intimates, in chorus. "Nobody can manage Chortles like old Scar."
"Laughed and stared a bit, and then thays he, 'If it's from tho high a principle, Scarfield!'—and let me off. Poor old Peterth got it hot after me. You're bound to put it out on thome one when you are a Don."
"I say," said an eager youth, "where can one get anything like that jolly little statue there? I'd give a lot of money for one. I suppose it costs the eyes out of your head."
"It costs personal research and knowledge," said another, "which are more expensive still. There are imitations, however, which I daresay you'd find do just as well."
"Where could one get it, Rushton?" said the young man. "You're not so high and mighty as these other fellows—you'll give a man an answer. I've got rooms as bare as a post, and I must get them fit for a Christian to live in."