And what he found was a quiet, friendly host, surrounded by a group of men talking the ordinary pleasant Oxford chit-chat--the river, the schools, the Union, the football matches, and so on.

Every now and then, as Elsmere stood at the edge of the circle listening, the rugged face in the centre of it would break into a smile, or some boyish speaker would elicit the low spontaneous laugh in which there was such a sound of human fellowship, such a genuine note of self-forgetfulness.

Sometimes the conversation strayed into politics, and then Mr.Grey, an eager politician, would throw back his head, and talk with more sparkle and rapidity, flashing occasionally into grim humor which seemed to throw light on the innate strength and pugnacity of the peasant and Puritan breed from which he sprang.

Nothing could be more unlike the inspired philosopher, the mystic surrounded by an adoring school, whom Robert had been picturing to himself in his walk up to the house, through the soft May twilight.
It was not long before the tutor had learned to take much kindly notice of the ardent and yet modest exhibitioner, in whose future it was impossible not to feel a sympathetic interest.
'You will always find us on Sunday afternoons, before chapel,' he said to him one day as they parted after watching a football match in the damp mists of the Park, and the boy's flush of pleasure showed how much he valued the permission.
For three years those Sunday half-hours were the great charm of Robert Elsmere's life.

When he came to look back upon them, he could remember nothing very definite.