"Yes! Your manner, so different from the interest and sympathy
which endear you to so many hearts, your altered voice, the
constraint there is in everything you say, and in your looks,"
replied the student, "warn me that you know me. That you would
conceal it, even now, is but a proof to me (God knows I need none!)
of your natural kindness and of the bar there is between us."

A vacant and contemptuous laugh, was all his answer.

"But, Mr. Redlaw," said the student, "as a just man, and a good
man, think how innocent I am, except in name and descent, of
participation in any wrong inflicted on you or in any sorrow you
have borne."

"Sorrow!" said Redlaw, laughing. "Wrong! What are those to me?"

"For Heaven's sake," entreated the shrinking student, "do not let
the mere interchange of a few words with me change you like this,
sir! Let me pass again from your knowledge and notice. Let me
occupy my old reserved and distant place among those whom you
instruct. Know me only by the name I have assumed, and not by that
of Longford--"

"Longford!" exclaimed the other.

He clasped his head with both his hands, and for a moment turned
upon the young man his own intelligent and thoughtful face. But
the light passed from it, like the sun-beam of an instant, and it
clouded as before.