the bashful forget-me-not, inasmuch as you could read in the play of
their features: "Forget me not! I, too, was an orator."

Vilsing, who had been studying for some years already, paid a freshman a
compliment by desiring his acquaintance and seeking his society. He
frequented the Students' Union, was on terms of friendship with those
who led the fashion, and was a favourite speaker. It was a species of
condescension on his part to seek out a young fellow just escaped from
school, a fellow who would have sunk into the earth if he had had to
make a speech, and who had no connection with the circle of older
students.

Vilsing was a young man of moods, who, like many at that time, like
Albrecht, the chief character in Schandorph's [Footnote: Sophus
Schandorph, b. 1820, d. 1901; a prominent Danish novelist, who commenced
his literary activity in the sixties.--[Translator's note.]] _Without
a Centre_, would exhibit all the colours of the rainbow in one
morning. He would give himself, and take himself back, show himself
affectionate, cordial, intimate, confidential, full of affectionate
anxiety for me his young friend, and at the next meeting be as cursory
and cool as if he scarcely remembered having seen me before; for he
would in the meantime have been attacked by vexation at his too great
friendliness, and wish to assert himself, as knowing his own value.

He impressed me, his junior, by revealing himself, not precisely as a
man of the world, but as a much sought after society man. He told me how
much he was asked out, and how he went from one party and one ball to
another, which, to me, with my hankering after experiences, seemed to be
an enviable thing. But I was more struck by what Vilsing told me of the
favour he enjoyed with the other sex. One girl--a charming girl!--he was