Had the boy known as much of that gentleman as the reader does, he would probably have displayed considerably more interest in his new acquaintance than he did.

As it was, he would have been glad of an excuse to avoid shaking hands with either him or his empty-headed companion, Mr Pillans.

He went through the ceremony as stiffly as possible, and then followed the party within.
"Now, then," said Blandford, as they sat down at one of the tables, "what do you say?
It'll save trouble to take the table d'hote, eh?
are you game, you fellows?
Table d'hote for four, waiter.

What shall we have to drink?
I say hock to start with." "I wont take any wine," said Reginald, with an effort.
"Why not?
You're not a teetotaler, are you ?" "I won't take any wine," repeated Reginald decisively; and, to his satisfaction, he was allowed to do as he pleased.
The dinner passed as such entertainments usually do, diminishing in interest as it went on.

In his happiest days, Reginald always hated what the boys used to call "feeds," and he found that three months' altered circumstances had by no means reconciled him to the infliction.
He shirked the last two or three courses, and grew heartily tired of the sight of a plate.
"You wondered how I came to be in town ?" said Blandford.