They called him Onions as a sort of parody on his name, "Leek." The college was in the habit of bestowing these nicknames. Joseph Leek, at any rate, did not mind it, whatever others, thus distinguished, might do; he would as soon be called Onions as Leek, at any time. Nothing upset his temper or his equanimity. He was one of the coolest boys that ever entered a school, and was a universal favourite. His father, General Leek, was in India; his mother, Lady Sophia, whom Dr. Brabazon was now assisting from the carriage, was an invalid in the matter of nerves, and always thankful to get her son to school again the first day of term. The pony carriage drove off; Lady Sophia Leek's carriage was not long in following; other carriages, and cabs, and flies came up and went; and there was a lull in the arrivals. Dr. Brabazon was standing at his drawing-room window (a light pretty room on the right of the hall) and was trying to call to mind how many were still absent, when he saw some one else approaching, a small black travelling-bag in one hand, and dressed from head to foot in a suit of grey. "Who's this?" cried he to himself. "It looks too tall for Gall." Too tall certainly for Mr. Gall, who, though the senior boy of the college, was undersized. And too old also. This gentleman looked two or three-and-twenty; a slender man of middle height, with pale, delicate features, and a sad sort of look in his pleasant dark eyes. "It must be the new German master," thought Dr. Brabazon: and he hurried out to meet him. The new German master it was, Mr. Henry. There was a peculiar kind of timid reticence in his manner which seemed foreign to himself, for his face was a candid, open face, his voice frank. Dr. Brabazon put it down to the natural shyness of one who has resided abroad. Mr. Henry, of English birth, had been chiefly educated in Germany. He spoke German as a native, French also: for some few years he had been a professor at the University of Heidelberg, and had come thence now, strongly recommended to Dr. Brabazon. "I am very glad to see you," said the doctor, taking his hand in his simple, cordial manner. "Welcome to England! I have been expecting you since the morning." "We had a bad passage, sir; the boat was late by many hours. It was due at ten this morning, but we only got in an hour or two ago." The words were spoken without any foreign accent. Not only that: the tone was that of a refined Englishman. The fact gave satisfaction to Dr. Brabazon, who liked his pupils to be surrounded by good associations in all ways. "Will you kindly tell me where I am to lodge?" "Here, for a few days," said Dr. Brabazon. "As you were so complete a stranger, we thought you might like best to fix, yourself, upon lodgings. It is some years since you were in England, I think?" "Nine years, sir." "Nine years! Dear me! You have not many friends, then, I conclude, in your own country?" Mr. Henry shook his head. "Few men are much more friendless than I am."