Feeling a sense of déjà vu, the next afternoon, Julian answered his door like he had when I had first talked to him, by opening it only a crack and looking through it warily, as if he was hiding something wonderful inside his office that needed to be hidden from anyone other than him. I have gotten to know this feeling for the next few months. Even now, years later and far away, sometimes in my sleep, dreaming I find myself standing before his white office door, waiting for him to appear, like some gatekeeper in a fairy tale: ageless, watchful, and sly a as child.

When he saw it was me, he opened his door slightly wider than he had the first time we met at his door. "Mr.Pepin again, is it?" I didn't even bother to correct him. "I'm afraid so." He looked at me for a moment. "You have a wonderful name, you know," he said. "There were kings of France named Pepin." "Are you busy now?" "I am never too busy for an heir to the French throne if that in fact is what you are," he said pleasantly. "I'm afraid not." He laughed quietly to himself at his own joke. But, to my surprise he opened his door and ushered me in.

Inside of the room is was wonderful, not an office at all, much bigger than it looked from outside-airy and white, a high ceiling and a soft breeze fluttering through the starched curtains. In the corner of the room near a low bookshelf, was a large round table littered with teapots and Greek papers and books, and there were flowers everywhere, roses and carnations, on his desk, the table, and in the window sill. The roses were especially fragrant; their smell hung rich and heavy in the air, and mixed with the smell of China black tea, parchment, and the faint smell of inky camphor. Breathing in deep, I felt intoxicated. Everywhere I looked there was something intriguing and beautiful-Oriental rugs, porcelain, tiny painting like jewels-that dazzled like fractured color that struck me into awe. And on the the low bookshelf there was a head bust of David of Michelangelo.

He sat in an armchair by the window and motioned for me to sit, as well. "I suppose you've come about the Greek class," he said. "Yes." Julian had kind eyes, frank, more specks of grey than blue were scattered in his irises. "It's rather late in the term," he said. "I'd like to study it again. It'd seem a rather shame if I were to drop it after two years." Julian's eyebrow formed an arch-deep and mischievous. He looked at his hands for a moment. "I was told you're from California." "Yes, I am," I said a bit startled that he knew this information. 'Who told him this?' I thought to myself. "I know very few people from the West." He said. "I don't think I would like it there." He paused, he had a pensive and a vaguely troubled look planted across his face. "And what did you do in California?" I gave him a spiel. Failed movie stars,lamplit cocktails by the pool, cigarettes, and ennui. Julian listened to everything I had to say, his eyes never left mine. He seemed to be entranced by my recollections, hanging onto every word that left my mouth. I've never had this much attentiveness, such keen solitude. "How thrilling." He said warmly when I had finished. "How romantic." "Well, we're all quite used to it out there, you see," I said, trying not to fidget, as a result of me feeling flushed with the success of my brilliance. "And what does a person with a romantic temperate background seek in the studies of classics?" Julian asked this as if, having a rare bird such as myself was good fortune, he was anxious to extract my opinion while I was captive in his office. "If by romantic you mean solitary and introspective," I said, "I think romantics are the best classicists."

He laughed. "The great romantics are often failed classicists. But that's beside the point, isn't it? What do you think of Hampden? Are you happy here?"

I provided him with the synopsis of my time here at Hempden, of why at the time I found the college satisfactory for my purposes. "The young ones often find the country side a bore," said Julian. "Which is not to say that it's not good for them. Have you traveled much? Tell me what it was that attracted you to a place like this. I should think a young man like yourself would be lost in a place outside of the city, perhaps you've grown tired of your life in the city, is that so?"

So skillfully and engagingly that I was disarmed, he led the conversation from topic to topic, and I am quite sure that in our talk, which only seemed a short amount of time, but in reality it was much longer, he managed to extract everything he needed to know about me. I did not expect that his such interest might spring from anything less than the own richness of just my own company, and all though I found myself talking with relish on a bewildering variety of topics-some more personal than others, some with frankness than what was customary-I was quite convinced I was acting on my own volition. I wish I could remember what was said that day-actually I do remember more of what I had said, most of what I said was to fatuous for me to recall with pleasure. The only point that he differed, beside the eyebrow raise at my mention of Picasso, was on the topic of physiology, which was, weighing heavy on my mind, working for Dr.Roland and everything with it.

"But do you really think," he said with concern. "One can call physiology a science?"

"Certainly. What else is it?"

"Even Plato believed that class and conditioning and so on have inalterable effect on an individual. But, it seems to me that physiology is only another word for what the ancients call fate."

"Physiology is a terrible word." Julian agreed vigorously. "Yes, it is terrible, isn't it?" He said with an expression that indicated he thought it was rather tasteless of me to even use the word.

"Perhaps in a way it is a way for humans to talk about a certain part of ones mind. The country folk who live around me are fascinating because their lives are so closely lived to there fate, it's almost as if God has predestined them. But-" he laughed-"I'm afraid my students are never very interesting to me because I always know exactly what they're going to do." He paused for a moment, "Well, except Angelina she's different from them especially her brother. She's...she's a sweet girl and kind but she can switch easily." I thought to myself for a moment 'maybe she's not who I thought she was.' Julian continued. "When it comes to Henry, Francis, Charles, Camila, Bunny, Cloke Rayburn. And now she seems to have taken interest in you, Richard." I looked at him strangely and bewildered. "Wh-what do you mean, sir?" In that moment this confused me more than my trigonometry class. "Well, anytime after classes she comes up to me asks me about allowing you to join my class, and yesterday Henry had made a comment about you, and Angelina scolded him and defended you." I looked at him with wide eyes. 'I would've never thought she care so much about joining this class or care about me or even remember who I was.' I must've said that thought out loud because Julian answer me, "She had once told me that people who often have a big impact on her, even if the do the slightest things, she'll remember you. She is very protective of her friends and loves them dearly. She may have a stoic and intimidating demeanor but behind her hard but soft eyes, is a heart of gold." What Julian said was exactly what I thought of her the first time I saw her. "Sweet, sweet girl. Sometimes I see and think of her as my own, But say or do something hurtful to a person she holds close to her heart she will turn faster on than a light switch." I could tell Julian said this with much love. "She seems like that kind of person. Sweet and gentle yet is strong enough to hold her own and others." I said. "My thoughts exactly." He said pointing a finger at me. Just then a knock rang through the room, "Speak of the devil." He chuckled and walked to the door, and there she stood. Her hair slightly frizzy and a stack of messy starch colored papers in her hands. "Hey, Julian I came to-Oh, hello Richard." Angelina waved at me. "Hello, Angelina." I said and returned the wave. "Sorry, to bother you two, but I need to grab my notes from class today, I believe, or at least I think I left them here." When Angelina chuckled it was the most sweetest sounding thing I've ever heard. "Yes, you did, Miss.Winters. Their still on the table over there, a bit scattered from yours and Francis' theatric reenactment." Julian gave her a playful glare as he spoke. "Ah, yes, I apologize about that and the flowers-" She paused for moment and looked around the room, "Are everywhere!! I'm so so sorry Julian, I'll Francis before class tomorrow before class and clean this mess up," She continued to ramble and Julian had to stop her from being so concerned about the messy classroom. "Angelina, dear, please, the room is fine, after Richard left I was planning on cleaning it up." I watched the interaction unfold, and they really did act like father and daughter. I noticed that a distraught expression laid across Angelina's face. "Are you sure? It's really no trouble."

"It's fine dear."

"Alright." She grabbed her papers, said goodbye and left, she returned only a second later saying goodbye to me as well. "That just went to prove my point further, she is always so willing to help."

"That she is." I said in awe of the older Winter sibling. "Well, it seems as if you have also taken interest in her," I blushed at his comment, "Also, if you'd like, I'd be happy to take you as a pupil, Mr.Papen." I was in a state of shock after what was said. "However, before you agree, there are a few conditions, to which you must agree."

"What?" I said suddenly alert.

"Will you go to the Register's office tomorrow and ask to switch counselors?" He reached for a pen in a cup, which amazingly was filled with dozens of Montblanc fountain pens and Meisterstücks. He quickly wrote out a note and handed it to me. "Don't lose it." He said. As I went to leave, he called me back in, "Oh, and one last thing Richard."

"Yes, sir?"

"You also need to drop all of your current classes." Julian said nonchalantly.

"All of them?" I said in shock and bewilderment,

"Yes, see you on Monday."

And with that I left.