Eustace never became demonstrative; he had in perfection the repose of a self-conscious, delicately bred, and highly trained Englishman.

In a day of democratisation, he supported the ancient fame of the University which fostered gentlemen.

Balliol was his College.
His respect for that name, and his reverence for the great master who ruled there, were not inconsistent with a private feeling that, whatever he might owe to Balliol, Balliol in turn lay under a certain obligation to him.

His academic record had no brilliancy; he aimed at nothing of the kind, knowing his limitations--or rather his distinctions; but he was quietly conscious that no graduate of his year better understood the niceties of decorum, more creditably represented the tone of that famous school of manners.
Eustace Derwent was in fact a thoroughly clear-minded and well-meaning young man; sensitive as to his honour; ambitious of such social advancement as would illustrate his name; unaffectedly attached to those of his own blood, and anxious to fulfil with entire propriety all the recognised duties of life.

He was intelligent, with originality; he was good-natured without shadow of boisterous impulse.