One evening he found himself as usual at Hardy's door about eight o'clock. The oak was open, but he got no answer when he knocked at the inner door. Nevertheless he entered, having quite got over all shyness or ceremony by this time. The room was empty, but two tumblers and the black bottle stood on the table, and the kettle was hissing away on the hob. "Ah," thought Tom, "he expects me, I see;" so he turned his back to the fire and made himself at home. A quarter of an hour passed, and still Hardy did not return. "Never knew him out so long before at this time of night," thought Tom. "Perhaps he's at some party. I hope so. It would do him a good deal of good; and I know he might go out if he liked. Next term, see if I won't make him more sociable. It's a stupid custom that freshmen don't give parties in their first term, or I'd do it at once. Why won't he be more sociable? No, after all sociable isn't the word; he's a very sociable fellow at bottom. What in the world is it that he wants?" And so Tom balanced himself on the two hind legs of one of the Windsor chairs, and betook himself to pondering what it was exactly which ought to be added to Hardy to make him an unexceptional object of hero-worship; when the man himself came suddenly into the room, slamming his oak behind him, and casting his cap and gown fiercely on to the sofa before he noticed our hero. Tom jumped up at once. "My dear fellow, what's the matter?" he said; "I'm sorry I came in; shall I go?" "No--don't go--sit down," said Hardy, abruptly; and then began to smoke fast without saying another word. Tom waited a few minutes watching for him, and then broke silence again.-- "I am sure something is the matter, Hardy; you look dreadfully put out--what is it?" "What is it?" said Hardy, bitterly; "Oh, nothing at all--nothing at all; a gentle lesson to servitors as to the duties of their position; not pleasant, perhaps, for a youngster to swallow; but I ought to be used to such things at any rate by this time. I beg your pardon for seeming put out." "Do tell me what it is," said Tom. "I'm sure I am very sorry for anything which annoys you." "I believe you are," said Hardy, looking at him, "and I'm much obliged to you for it. What do you think of that fellow Chanter's offering Smith, the junior servitor, a boy just come up, a bribe of ten pounds to prick him in at chapel when he isn't there?" "The dirty blackguard," said Tom; "by Jove he ought to be cut. He will be cut, won't he? You don't mean that he really did offer him the money?" "I do," said Hardy, "and the poor little fellow came here after hall to ask me what he should do with tears in his eyes." "Chanter ought to be horsewhipped in quad," said Tom. "I will go and call on Smith directly. What did you do?"