Julian could begin to see that his friend took something of a pleasure in showing and dwelling upon the worst side of his own character.

“You will be happy,” he said, “when you once find your true work, and feel that you are doing it well.”

“But the motives, the motives!—­Never mind, I’ve talked enough of myself for one sitting.  Don’t think I’ve told you everything.  Plenty more confessions to come, when time and place shall serve.  Little by little you will get to know me, and by then will most likely have had enough of me.”

“That is not at all likely; rather the opposite.”

When they left the house together, shortly after eleven, Julian’s eye fell upon the dark figure of a girl, standing by a gas-lamp on the opposite side of the way.  The figure held his gaze.  Waymark moved on, and he had to follow, but still looked back.  The girl had a veil half down upon her face; she was gazing after the two.  She moved, and the resemblance to Harriet was so striking that Julian again stopped.  As he did so, the figure turned away, and walked in the opposite direction, till it was lost in the darkness.

Julian went on, and for a time was very silent.

CHAPTER VIII

ACADEMICAL

The school in which Osmond Waymark taught was situated in “a pleasant suburb of southern London” (Brixton, to wit); had its “spacious playground and gymnasium” (the former a tolerable back-yard, the latter a disused coach-house); and, as to educational features, offered, at the choice of parents and guardians, either the solid foundation desirable for those youths predestined to a commercial career, or the more liberal training adapted to minds of a professional bias.  Anything further in the way of information was to be obtained by applying to the headmaster, Dr. Tootle.

At present the number of resident pupils was something under forty.  The marvel was how so many could be accommodated in so small a house.  Two fair-sized bedrooms, and a garret in which the servants could not be persuaded to sleep, served as dormitories for the whole school; the younger children sleeping two together.

Waymark did not reside on the premises.  For a stipulated sum of thirteen pounds per quarter he taught daily from nine till five, with an interval of an hour and a half at dinner-time, when he walked home to Walcot Square for such meal as the state of his exchequer would allow.  Waymark occupied a prominent place in Dr. Tootle’s prospectus.  As Osmond Waymark, B.A.,—­the degree was a bona fide one, of London University,—­he filled the position of Senior Classical Master; anonymously he figured as a teacher of drawing and lecturer on experimental chemistry.  The other two masters, resident, were Mr. O’Gree and Herr Egger; the former, teacher of mathematics, assistant classical master, and professor of gymnastics; the latter, teacher