Before rejoining his mother, he determined to call on one of the junior fellows, the only one with whom he had any acquaintance, the Reverend N Admer. He only knew him from a casual introduction; but Mr Admer had asked him to call, on his arrival at Saint Werner's, and Julian hoped both to get some information from him to dissipate the painful feeling of strangeness and novelty, and also partially to do away with the effect of Mr Grayson's coldness. Although it was now past ten in the morning, he found Mr Admer only just beginning breakfast, and looking tired and lazy. He was received with a patronising and supercilious tone, and the Fellow not only went on with his breakfast, but occasionally glanced at a newspaper while he talked. Not that Mr Admer at all meant to be unkind or rude, but he hated enthusiasm in every shape; he did not believe in it, and it wearied him--hence freshmen during their first few days were his profound abhorrence. After a few commonplace remarks, Julian ventured on a question or two as to the purchases which he would immediately require, the hours of lecture and hall, and the thousand-and-one trifles of which a newcomer is necessarily ignorant. Mr Admer seemed to think this a great bore, and answered languidly enough, advising Julian not to be "more fresh" than he could help. It requires very small self-denial to make a person at home by supplying him with a little information; but small as the effort would have been, it was greater than the Reverend N Admer could afford to make, and his answers were so little encouraging that Julian, making ample allowance for the ennuye condition of the young Fellow, relapsed into silence. "And what do you think of Saint Werner's?" asked Mr Admer, taking the initiative, with a yawn. Julian's face lighted up. "Think of it! I feel uncommonly proud already of being a Saint Werner's man." "Genius loci, and all that sort of thing, eh?" The sneering way in which this was said left room for no reply, so Mr Admer continued. "Ah you'll soon find all that sort of twaddle wear off." "I hope not," said Julian. "Of course you intend to be senior classic, or senior wrangler, or something of that sort?" "I expect simply nothing; but if I were inclined to soar, one might have a still higher ambition than that." "Oh, I see; an embryo Newton,--all that sort of thing." "I didn't mean quite `all that sort of thing,' since you seem fond of the phrase," said Julian, "but really I think my aspirations, whatever they are, would only tire you. Good morning." "Good morning," said Mr Admer, nodding. "We don't shake hands up here. I shall come and call on you soon." "The later the better," thought Julian, as he descended the narrow stairs. "Good heavens! is that a fair specimen of a don, I wonder. If so, I shall certainly confine my acquaintance to the undergraduates."