It has already gained some notoriety, as I was publicly requested, before the whole Fifth, the other day, to abstain from evoking its musical talents in the course of the Latin prose lesson.

Now I must shut up.

Seriously, old man, don't overwork yourself, and don't bother to write unless you've time; but you know how welcome your letters are to "Your affectionate chum, "C.N." Of course Tom sat down and answered this letter at once, much reproaching himself for his past neglect.
With the vision of Charlie before his eyes, and with the sound of his voice again in his ears, all his old resolutions and impulses returned that morning.

He worked hard, and flung the trashy novel, over which he had been wasting his time the day before, into the fire; he went off to lectures with something like his old eagerness, and discharged his duties in the wards with interest and thoroughness; he refused to allow his mind to be distracted by the proceedings of his fellow-students, and he resolved to spend that very evening at Mr Newcome's.
Tom Drift would probably have laughed at the idea that this sudden change was due entirely to Charlie's letter.

To him it seemed like a spontaneous reassertion of its natural self by his mind, and a matter for such self-congratulation and satisfaction, that it at once covered the multitude of past omissions.
Indeed, Tom felt very virtuous as he returned that afternoon to his lodgings; and so felt no need to look away from self to Him who alone can keep us from falling.
He read Charlie's letter over again, and smiled at the idea of _his_ getting up mathematics in his spare time.
"He's not the sort of fellow to stick to work of that sort," said Tom to himself, secretly comparing his own remarkable powers of application with those of his Randlebury friend.
Then he sat down, and more than ever admiring and wondering at his own greediness for hard work, read till it was time to start for Mr Newcome's.
It was a good long way, but being a fine evening, Tom determined to walk.