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Neither Miss Marlett, if she had aught to communicate, nor anyone else, could be expected to know that Mait-land's first act would be to rush to Oxford and consult Bielby. The guardian of Margaret turned with no success to his breakfast commons; even tea appeared unwelcome and impossible. Maitland felt very drowsy, dull, indifferent, when a knock came to his door, and Mr. Whalley entered.
Bielby was informed of his state, and came to see him; but Maitland talked so wildly about the Hit or Miss, about the man in the bearskin coat, and other unintelligible matters, that the hermit soon withdrew to the more comprehensible fragments of "Demetrius of Scepsis."
Groping and stumbling his familiar way up the darkest of spiral staircases, Maitland missed his footing, and fell, with the whole weight of his body, against the door at which he had meant to knock. "Come in," said a gruff voice, as if the knocking had been done in the most conventional manner. Maitland had come in by this time, and found the distinguished Mr. Bielby, Fellow of St.
I believe our Torpid has bumped Keble, and the event is being celebrated." Here there came a terrific howl from without, and a crash of broken glass. "There go some windows into their battels," said Mr. Bielby. "They will hear of this from the Provost But what brings you here, Maitland, so unexpectedly? Very glad to see you, whatever it is."
Bielby sat perfectly silent for a few minutes, and no one who saw him could doubt that his silence arose from a conscious want of words on a level with the situation. "Has Miss h'm, Spears Shields? thank you; has she been an orphan long?" he asked, at length.
As to the row with the Frenchman at Cairo, he told me himself. He said the beggar was too small for him to lick, and that duelling was ridiculous." "They didn't take that view of it at Shephard's Hotel" "Well, it is not my affair," said Maitland. "One should see all sort of characters, Bielby says. This is not an ordinary fellow.
Looking at his friend, Maitland envied the learned calm of a man who had not contrived, in the task of developing his own human nature, to become involved, like his pupil, in a singular and deplorable conjuncture of circumstances. "The men are making a terrible riot in quad," he said, answering the other's remark. "Yes, yes," replied Bielby, genially; "boys will be boys, and so will young men.
Bielby had not been responsible for the details of the methods by which his pupil was trying to expand his character. Lastly, he reflected that if he had not taken Bielby's advice, and left Oxford, he never would have known Mrs. St. John Deloraine, the lady of his diffident desires.
His signature headed a petition in favor of having three "devils," or steam-whoopers, yelling in different quarters of the town between five and six o'clock every morning, that the artisans might be awakened in time for the labors of the day. As Maitland's schemes made more noise than progress at Oxford, Bielby urged him to come out of his Alma Mater and practise benevolence in town.
Thence he drove to Paddington, and, with brief enough space for investigations that yielded nothing, he took his ticket by the 9.15 evening train for Oxford. His whole soul was set on consulting Bielby of St. Gatien's, whom, in his heart, Maitland could not but accuse of being at the bottom of all these unprecedented troubles.
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