"Indeed I am," answered Reginald; "but I had no notion that you were here, Power. How very fortunate I am to find you! But come along, I'll introduce you to my father. He'll want you to dine with us." Of course Power was nothing loth to accept the invitation. He had come up just in time, before he was too old, and had at once taken a fair standing in the school, being in the upper division of the Fourth Form, and about to go into the lower remove. He was, too, in Reginald's own house, which was a very great satisfaction. The Squire at length found out the son of a friend of his--young Anson, and invited him to join his dinner-party at the Christopher. As he wanted to see the cricketing and boating in the afternoon, he had ordered dinner early; and, saying he might not exactly know what Eton boys of the present day liked, he had left the selection of the dishes to the landlord. A very merry party they were seated round the dinner-table at the Christopher, and ample justice did they all do to the dinner provided. The Squire wished to give the boys the best of everything, so he ordered champagne and claret. "Wine?" said Anson, looking at Power. The latter nodded, and with due gravity they hobnobbed together, tossing off the sparkling contents of their tall glasses. "Very good wine they give at the Christopher," observed Anson to the Squire; "in my opinion, this Chateau Margaux claret is about as first-rate tipple as one finds anywhere." "I fancied their Lafitte was better, and ordered it accordingly," answered the Squire, much amused at his young friend's remarks. "Oh, certainly, I am very glad of that," quickly replied Anson. "The fact is, I had not tasted their Lafitte, and supposed that they could have nothing better than their Chateau Margaux." "Try this, then," said the Squire, pushing a bottle of freshly-decanted claret towards him; "say what you think of it." "Perfect nectar," answered the young gentleman, smacking his lips. "This beats the other hollow. I must row mine host for not giving us his best wine the last time I dined with my uncle here." "We were not so particular in my days," observed the Squire; "good honest port and sherry sufficed us. But I tell you what, lads, stick to the light wines, and a moderate quantity of them will do you no harm; but eschew spirits-and-water, or spirits in any shape, as you would poison, and when you drink beer, don't go swilling away huge quantities, as I see some fellows doing, as if their insides were mere tuns made to hold liquor. Just look at the great, fat, pursy, bloated fellows you often meet, and think how you would like to become as they are. Well, they brought themselves to that state by swilling beer and spirits-and-water. Others have sent themselves to their graves by the same means, and others, though not pursy, have lost their health and stamina, and spirits, and are burdens to themselves, and useless in the world."