It was arranged that they should all four go at once to Julian's rooms, and help in the grand operation of unpacking. The rooms were very pleasant attics in the great court, looking out on the Fellows' bowling-green, and the Iscam flowing beyond it. The furniture, most of which Julian was going to take from the previous possessor, was neat and comfortable, and when the book shelves began to glitter with his Harton prizes and gift-books, Julian was delighted beyond measure with the appearance of his new home. For some hours the unpacking continued vigorously, only interrupted by an excursion for lunch to the hotel, since Julian had as yet purchased no plates and received no commons. On their return they found an old lady in the room-- "A charred and wrinkled piece of womanhood;" who, in a voice like the grating of a blunt saw, informed Julian that she was to be his bedmaker, and asked him whether he intended "to tea" in his rooms that evening. (The verb "to tea" is the property of bedmakers, and, with beautiful elasticity, it even admits of a perfect tense--as "have you tea'd?") "By all means," said Julian; "lay the table for four this evening at eight o'clock, and get me some bread and butter. You'll stay, Hugh, won't you?" "I should like to, very much. But won't it be your last evening with your mother and Miss Home?" "Yes; but never mind that." Lillyston shook his head, and bidding the ladies a warm good-bye, left them to enjoy with Julian his first quiet evening in Saint Werner's, Camford. "I must hang my pictures before you go, Violet. I shall want your advice." "Well, let me see," said Violet. "The water-colour likenesses of Cyril and Frankie ought to go here, one on each side of Mr Vere; at least, I suppose, you mean to put Mr Vere in the place of honour?" "Oh, certainly," said Julian; "every time I look on that noble face, so full of strength and love, and so marked with those `divine hieroglyphics of sorrow,' I shall learn fresh lessons of endurance and wisdom." "People will certainly call you a heretic, if you do," laughed Violet. "People!" said Julian scornfully. "Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise. "Let them yelp." Mr Vere was an eminent clergyman, who had been an intimate friend of Mr Home before his death. Julian had only heard him preach, and met him occasionally; but he had read some of his works, and had received from him so much sympathising kindness and intellectual aid, that he regarded him with a love and reverence little short of devotion--as a man distinguished above all others for his gentleness, his eloquence, his honesty, his learning, and his love. This likeness had belonged to Mr Home, and Julian had asked leave to carry it with him whenever he should go to the University. "Yes, the place of honour for Mr Vere."