"Why, it is much plainer than any pikestaff," Hoffland replied, laughing; "listen, and I will explain. Mowbray will return home this evening, and after tea he will say to his sister, 'I have a new friend at college, Lucy--the handsomest, brightest, most amiable and fascinating youth I ever saw.' You see he will call me a 'youth;' possibly this may excite Miss Lucy's curiosity, and she will ask more about me; and then Mowbray will of course expatiate on my various and exalted merits, as every warm-hearted man does when he speaks of his friends. Then Miss Lucy will imagine for herself a _beau ideal_ of grace, elegance, beauty, intelligence and wit, far more than human. She will fall in love with it--and then, when she is hopelessly entangled in this passion for the creation of her fancy, I will make my appearance. Do you not understand now, sir?" Denis frowned and muttered a reply which it had been well for Hoffland to have heard. "I think it very plain," continued the young man; "with all those graces of mind and person which a kind Providence has bestowed upon me, I still feel that I could expect nothing but defeat, contending with the ideal of a young girl's heart. Oh, sir, you can't imagine how fanciful they are--believe me, women very seldom fall in love with real men: it is the image of their dreams which they sigh over and long to meet. This is all that they really love." "Ah?" said Denis, in a freezing tone. "Yes," Hoffland said; "and applying this reasoning to the present subject, you cannot fail to understand my motives for refusing Mowbray's kind invitation. Once in love with my shadow, Lucy will not fall in love with me. To tell you the truth, I could not afford to have her----" "Mr. Hoffland!" "Why, Mr. Denis--did any thing hurt you? Perhaps----" "It was nothing, sir!" said Denis, with a flushed face. "Well, to conclude," said Hoffland; "I could not accept Lucy's love were she to offer it to me, and for this reason I have staid away. I am myself fettered by another object; I could not marry her were she to fall sick for love of me, and beg me on her knees to accept her hand and heart--I really could not!" Denis rose as if on springs. "Mr. Hoffland!" he said, "you have basely insulted a young girl whom I love--the sister of my friend--the best and purest girl in the world. By Heaven, sir! you shall answer this! But for your delicate appearance, sir, I would personally chastise you on the spot! But you do not escape me, sir! Hold yourself in readiness to receive a challenge from me to-morrow morning, sir!" "Mr. Denis!" murmured Hoffland, suddenly turning pale and trembling from head to foot. "Refuse it, and I will publish you as a coward!" cried Denis, in a towering rage; "a poltroon who has insulted a lady and refused to hold himself responsible!" With which words Denis tossed away; and passing through the crowd of students, who, hearing angry voices, had risen to their feet, he entered the college.