In accordance with the invitation, Cameron walked to supper with Squire Leech. His social position as the son of a rich manufacturer insured him a cordial welcome and great attention from the whole family.
“You must find our village very dull, Mr. Cameron,” said his host.
“Oh, no, sir; I think I shall enjoy it very well.”
“We have very little good society, I am sorry to say.”
“That's so, father,” broke in James. “I wish you would move to the city.”
“That may come some day,” said his father, thinking of Mr. Temple and his operations.
“How do you occupy your time, Mr. Cameron?” asked Mrs. Leech.
“I walk about in the forenoon. In the afternoon I am occupied with my professor,” answered the young man.
“Your professor!” repeated the lady, in surprise. “Is one of your college professors staying here?”
“No; they are too busy to leave New Haven. I refer to my young reader, Herbert Carter.”
“Herbert Carter!” repeated James, scornfully.
“Yes,” said Cameron, ignoring the scorn; “he reads my lessons to me and then questions me upon them. That is why I call him my professor.”
“I should hardly think you would find him competent,” said the squire.
“He don't know much,” said James, contemptuously.
“On the contrary, I find him very intelligent. He reads clearly and distinctly, and I congratulate myself on obtaining so satisfactory an assistant.”
Squire Leech shrugged his shoulders and had too much wisdom to continue detracting from Herbert's merits, seeing that his guest seemed determined to think well of him. Not so James.
“He is from a low family,” he said, spitefully.
“Low?” interrogated Cameron, significantly.
“His mother is very poor.”
“That's a very different thing,” observed Cameron.
“Mrs. Carter is a very respectable person,” said the squire, condescendingly. “Indeed, I have offered to relieve her by taking her house at a high valuation; but, under a mistaken idea of her own interest, she refuses to sell.”
“But you'll get it finally, father,” asked James.
“I shall probably have to take it in the end, as I have a mortgage on it for nearly its value.”
Cameron looked down upon his plate and said nothing.
“My son will be happy to accompany you about the neighborhood, Mr. Cameron,” said Squire Leech.
“I can go round with you 'most any time,” said James.
“Thank you both. You are very kind,” said Cameron, politely, but without expressing any pleasure.
“I think I may send James to Yale,” observed his host, “I have a high idea of your college, Mr. Cameron.”
“Thank you. I think your son could hardly fail of deriving benefit from a residence at Yale.”
“James is my only child and I intend him to enjoy the greatest educational advantages. I should like to have him become a professional man.”
“I should like to be a lawyer; that's a very gentlemanly profession,” said James.
“You might rise to be a judge,” said Cameron, with a smile.
“Very likely,” said James, in a matter-of-course way, that amused the young man exceedingly.
“What an odious young cub!” he said to himself, as he wended his way back to the hotel at ten o'clock. “I never met such a combination of pride and self-conceit.”
James thought Cameron had taken a fancy to him.
“He must get awfully tired of that low-bred Herbert Carter,” he said to himself. “I guess I'll go round tomorrow morning and take a walk with him.”
He met Cameron on the steps of the hotel.
“I thought I'd come and walk with you,” he said.
“Very well,” said Cameron. “Do you know the way to Mr. Crane's?”
“The carpenter's?”
“Yes.”
“There's nothing to see there,” said James.
“I beg your pardon. I want to see Herbert at his work.”
“Oh, well, I'll show you the way,” said James.
Herbert was hard at work when the two came up.
“How are you, professor?” asked Cameron.
“Very well, Mr. Cameron. How are you, James?”
“I'm well enough,” answered James, who always found it hard to be decently civil to our hero. “Don't you get tired working?”
“I haven't worked long enough this morning for that. I dare say I shall be tired before noon.”
“Then your other work will begin,” said Cameron.
“That kind of work will be a rest to me, it's so different.”
“If you had an extra hoe I would help you a little. It would be as good as exercise in the gymnasium.”
“Perhaps I could borrow two and so employ both of you,” remarked Herbert, with a glance at James, who was sprucely dressed and wore a flower in his buttonhole.
“None for me, thank you,” said James, with a look of disgust. “I don't intend to become a laborer.”
“You'll have to labor if you study law,” said Cameron.
“That's genteel; besides I don't call it labor. Shall we go on, Mr. Cameron?”
“Not just yet. I want to watch Herbert a little longer.”
So he lingered, much to the dissatisfaction of James.
“Won't you go out rowing?” he asked, when they were walking away.
“I have no objection,” said Cameron; and they spent an hour on the pond.
“Do you think I can get into the crew if I go to Yale?” asked James, complacently.
“I should say not, unless you improve in rowing.”
“Don't I row well?”
“There is considerable room for improvement. However, you have time enough for that.”
They were cruising near the shore when a boy of ten came down to the bank and called out to them.
“James,” he said, “will you let me go across in the boat with you?”
“Why should I?” demanded James, not very amicably, for the boy belonged to what he termed the lower classes.
“Do let me,” urged the boy. “I left mother very sick and went for the doctor. She was all alone and I want to get back as soon as I can.”
By the road the boy would have to walk about a mile and a quarter, while he could be rowed across the pond in six or seven minutes.
“I can't take anybody and everybody in my boat,” said James, disagreeably. “Go ahead and walk.”
“How can you refuse the boy, when he wants to get home to his sick mother?” said Cameron, indignantly. “Jump in, my boy, and we'll take you over.”
“I don't know about that,” said James, sullenly.
“Look here!” said Cameron, shortly. “Refuse this boy and I shall get out of the boat immediately and refuse hereafter to be seen in your company.”
James was disagreeably surprised.
“Jump in, my boy,” said Cameron, kindly.
“Thank you, sir,” said the boy, gratefully. James was not a little mortified at the snubbing he had received, but he did not venture to expostulate.
Cameron was fond of boating, but did not care to be indebted to James for the loan of his boat.
“I'll have a boat sent on to me,” he secretly determined, “and when I leave Wrayburn I'll give it to Herbert.”
Herbert worked steadily every forenoon on his farm. Cameron then proposed that they should take the forenoon for their studies and walk out or exercise in some other way in the afternoon.
One afternoon Cameron said: “Let us take a walk to Prospect Pond; I think I should enjoy a little rowing.”
“I will accompany you with pleasure, Mr. Cameron,” said Herbert, “but don't ask me to go out in the boat with you.”
“Why not? Are you afraid I will upset you?”
“No,” answered Herbert; “I have confidence in your skill. Besides, I can swim.”
“What is your objection, then?”
“If the boat belonged to anyone but James Leech I would not mind.”
“Why should you mind that?”
“I met him last evening and he told me not to get into his boat again. He said he was perfectly willing you should use it, but he didn't choose to have me.”
“It appears that I am a greater favorite with James Leech than you are,” said Cameron, smiling.
“He looks down upon me as a poor boy.”
“Well, I suppose James is entitled to his prejudice; but if you can't use the boat, I won't.”
“Don't let that interfere with your pleasure, Mr. Cameron,” said Herbert, eagerly. “I don't trouble myself in the least about the way James treats me.”
“Let us go down to the pond, at any rate. We can sit down on the bank, if nothing better.”
“All right.”
An easy walk brought them to the edge of the pond. Herbert naturally looked for James Leech's boat. He thought something was the matter with his eyes, for where there should be but one boat there were now two.
“Why, there's another boat!” he exclaimed.
“Is there?” asked Cameron, indifferently.
“Yes, don't you see it?”
“Well, it does look like a boat, I admit. I should say it was nicer than the other.”
“I should say it was. Isn't she a regular beauty?” exclaimed Herbert, enthusiastically. “I wonder whose it is? James wouldn't want two.”
There was a smile on Cameron's face that attracted Herbert's attention.
“Is it yours?” he asked.
“No; I know who owns it, though.”
“It isn't the landlord, is it?”
“No.”
“Then I can't imagine whose it is,” said Herbert.
“Can't you?”
“No,” said Herbert. “Will you tell me?”
“It is yours!”
“Mine!” exclaimed our hero, in the utmost surprise,
“Yes; I intended at first not to give it to you till I went away; but I may as well give it now, on one condition—that you let me use it whenever I please.”
“How kind you are!” said Herbert, gratefully. “I never received such a splendid present in my life. I have done nothing to deserve it.”
“Let me be the judge of that. Now, with your consent, we will try her.”
With the utmost alacrity Herbert followed Cameron aboard the new craft, and took the oars. Smoothly and easily the boat glided off on the surface of the pond.
“I like it much better than James',” said Herbert.
“It's a better model. His is rather clumsy. Besides, this is new and he must have had his for some time.”
“He has had it three years.”
“It needs painting.”
“Even if it were painted it wouldn't come up to this.”
“I agree with you,” said Cameron. “I am afraid James will be stirred with envy when he sees your boat.”
“I am afraid so, too. He won't believe it is mine.”
“It may be your duty, out of a delicate regard to his feelings, to give it up, or exchange,” suggested Cameron.
“That's a little further than I carry my delicate regard to his feelings,” responded Herbert.
After half an hour's rowing, Cameron said, suddenly: “I must go back to the hotel. I came near forgetting an important letter, which must be sent off by this afternoon's mail.”
Herbert was a little disappointed, still he said, cheerfully: “All right, Mr. Cameron.”
“Don't you cease your rowing,” said the collegian.
“I thought you might not like to walk back alone.”
“I don't mind that. I shall hurry back, and should be poor company. We will meet to-morrow morning.”
Cameron set out on his return home. He had gone less than quarter of a mile when he met James Leech.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Cameron,” said James, who was always polite to the rich manufacturer's son.
“Good afternoon, James.”
“Won't you go out in my boat, Mr. Cameron?”
“Thank you, I have just returned from the pond. I am obliged to go back to the hotel to write a letter.”
“I should have been glad of your company.”
“You won't be alone,” said Cameron, mischievously. “I left Herbert Carter at the pond.”
“Was he out in the boat?” asked James, hastily.
“Yes.”
Without a word James walked abruptly away. He was very angry with Herbert, who, he naturally concluded, was out in his boat.
“He's the most impudent and cheeky boy I ever met!” he said to himself. “Last evening, I positively forbade his getting into my boat and he don't take the slightest notice of it. He needn't think he can take such liberties.”
Cameron smiled, as he read James' feelings in his face.
Just before reaching the pond there was rising ground, from which James could take a general survey of the lake. Herbert was cruising about and had not yet seen James.
“He don't think I'm so near,” thought James. “He thinks I won't know anything about his impudence. I'll soon make him draw in his horns.”
In his excitement, James did not notice the boat particularly. If he had he would have seen that it was not his boat. But, so far as he knew, there was no other boat on the pond. Indeed, there was no boy whose father could afford to buy him one, and James had come to think himself sole proprietor of the pond, as well as of the only craft that plied on its surface.
“I wonder,” he thought, “whether I couldn't have Herbert fined for taking my property without leave, especially after I have expressly forbidden him to do it. I must ask my father this evening. It would bring down his pride a little to be taken before a justice.”
Herbert had got tired of cruising, and made a vigorous stroke, as if to cross the pond. James put up his hand to his mouth and shouted at the top of his voice: “Come right back, Herbert Carter!”
Herbert, bending over his oars, heard the peremptory order of James to come back and smiled to himself as he instantly comprehended the mistake which the latter had made. From James' standpoint his own boat was not visible and it was not surprising that he should suspect our hero of having appropriated his boat.
“I won't undeceive him,” he thought.
“What do you want?” he asked, resting on his oars, and looking back at James.
“You know what I want,” said James, provoked.
“How should I know?”
“I want you to come right back, at once.”
“What's happened? What am I wanted for?”
“You'll be wanted by the constable.”
“I don't understand you,” said Herbert, shrugging his shoulders. “You appear to be mad about something.”
“So I am, and I have a right to be.”
“Well, I'm sure I have no objection, if you like it.”
James was pale with rage.
“Bring that boat right back here,” he said.
“If you'll give me a good reason, perhaps I will; but I don't think it necessary to obey you without.”
“You are a thief.”
“Say that again,” said Herbert, sternly, “and I will come ashore and give you a whipping.”
“You can't do it.”
“I can try.”
“Don't you know I can have you arrested for stealing my boat, you loafer?”
“Who's been stealing your boat, you loafer?”
“You have.”
“Are you sure of it?”
“Why, you are in my boat this very minute.”
“I think you are mistaken,” said Herbert, quietly.
“Don't you call that a boat you are in?”
“Yes, I do; but there's more than one boat in the world, and this isn't your boat.”
He rowed near the shore as he spoke, and James, his attention drawn to the boat, saw that it wasn't his. At the same time, walking nearer the edge of the pond, he caught sight of his own boat moored at its usual place.
“I guess I made a mistake,” said James.
“I think you have,” returned Herbert, quietly.
“Where did that boat come from?” demanded James.
“I don't know.”
“You don't? Then you've taken it without leave.”
“Oh, the owner won't object to my using it,” said Herbert, with a queer smile.
“How do you know?”
“He's an intimate friend of mine.”
“The owner?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose it belongs to Mr. Cameron, then?”
“He bought it.”
“Do you call him your intimate friend? He'd be proud if he heard it,” said James, with a sneer.
“Would he?” said Herbert.
“I should think he would, considering your high position in society.”
“I think he's a pretty good friend of mine but I have never called him an intimate friend.”
“Yes, you have. You said the owner of that boat was an intimate friend of yours.”
“So he is. I'm with him all the time.”
“Then why do you deny that you called Mr. Cameron your intimate friend?”
“Because Mr. Cameron doesn't own the boat.”
“Just now you said he bought it.”
“So he did, but he doesn't own it.”
“Then who does?”
“I do,” was the unexpected reply.
“You—own—that—boat?” ejaculated James.
“Yes.”
“Did Mr. Cameron give it to you?”
“Yes.”
“I don't believe it. That boat must have cost sixty or seventy dollars. I don't believe he would give you such a present as that.”
“I don't know as it makes much difference.”
“When did he give it to you?”
“This afternoon. I'll row in. Perhaps you would like to examine it.” James surveyed with envious eyes the neat, graceful boat, for he saw at a glance that his own boat, even when new, was by no means its equal.
“Isn't it a beauty?” asked Herbert, not without pride.
“Very fair,” answered James, condescendingly. “Did you ask Mr. Cameron to give it to you?”
“I never ask for gifts,” said Herbert, with emphasis. “What makes you ask such a question as that?”
“I thought it queer that he should have given you such a handsome present.”
“It was certainly very generous in him,” said Herbert.
“I shouldn't think you'd want to accept it, though.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are a poor boy and it don't correspond with your position.”
“Perhaps not; but that don't trouble me.”
“A less expensive boat would have been more appropriate.”
“Perhaps it would; but you wouldn't have me refuse it on that account?”
James did not answer and Herbert asked: “Are you going out in your boat this afternoon?”
“I should like to try yours,” said James.
“I shall be glad to have you,” said Herbert, politely.
“And you may take mine,” said James, with unwonted politeness.
“All right.”
The two boys got into the boats and pulled out. James was charmed with the new boat. In every way it was superior to his own boat, apart from its being newer. It was certainly very provoking to think that a boy like Herbert Carter, poor almost to beggary, should own such a beautiful little boat, while he, a rich man's son, had to put up with an inferior one.
“I say, Herbert,” he began, when they returned, “don't you want to exchange your boat for mine?”
“Not much; I should be a fool to do that.”
“I don't mean even, for I know your boat is better. I'll give you five dollars to boot.”
“No, thank you; there's a good deal more than five dollars' difference between your boat and mine.”
“Five dollars would come handy to a poor boy like you,” said James, in his usual tone of insolent condescension.
“I don't want it enough to exchange boats.”
“Well, I'll give you ten dollars,” said James. “That's an offer worth thinking about.”
“I shan't need to think about it. I say no.”
“You've got an extravagant idea of your boat. Mine is nearly as good but I've taken a fancy to yours. How will you trade, anyway?”
“I don't feel at liberty to trade at all. Mr. Cameron gave me the boat, but he is to have the use of it while he is here. He wouldn't be willing to have me exchange.”
“He can have the use of it all the same if it is mine.”
“It won't do, James,” said Herbert, shaking his head.
“You are very foolish, then,” said James, disappointed.
“I may be, but that is my answer.”
James walked away. He made up his mind, since he could not have Herbert's boat, to tease his father to buy him a new one. As to rowing in an inferior one, his pride would not permit it.
James broached the subject which was uppermost in his mind as soon as he got home.
“I wish you'd buy me a new boat, father,” he said.
“What's the matter with the boat you have now?”
“I don't want to be outdone by Herbert Carter.”
“I don't see how that can be.”
“He's got a beautiful new boat, twice as handsome as mine ever was.”
“He has!” exclaimed the squire, in amazement. “How can he have, without any money?”
“Mr. Cameron gave it to him.”
“I don't believe it. Probably the boat belongs to Mr. Cameron and he has only let Herbert use it.”
“No, Mr. Cameron gave it to him. Herbert told me.”
“Perhaps he has not told the truth.”
“He wouldn't tell a lie—that is, about that,” said James, modifying his first assertion lest it might be a compliment. In reality he had implicit confidence in Herbert's word.
“You wouldn't want me to be rowing around in a poor boat, while that beggar has a new one,” said James, artfully appealing to his father's pride.
“Well, the fact is, my son,” said the squire, rather embarrassed, “it would not be convenient for me to buy you a new boat just now.”
“Why not, father? I thought you had plenty of money.”
“So I have; but I have made some investments under the advice of Mr. Temple. If you can arrange to exchange boats by paying a little to boot, you may do so.”
“I have proposed it, but Herbert is very stiff about it.”
“Humph!” said the squire, clearing his throat; “I think you will have to wait a while.”
“How long?” asked James, dissatisfied.
“I'll tell you what I'll do,” said his father, “If things go well, I expect to make a good deal of money within twelve months. Instead of a rowboat, I'll buy you a beautiful little sailboat next season.”
“Will you?” exclaimed James, delighted.
“Yes; won't that be much better?”
“You are right, father.”
Certainly a sailboat would be far better and there was very little chance of Herbert's having one given him. So James went cut rowing contentedly the next afternoon, although Herbert was out also in the new boat.
“Your boat is better than mine,” said James. “However, I am to have an elegant yacht next year.”
“Are you?” said Herbert, interested.
“Father has promised to get me one. He would get me one this season but it would be some time before it could be got ready and I can have it the first thing next spring.”
“I congratulate you,” said Herbert. “I should like a sailboat myself.”
“I dare say you would,” said James, pompously, “but of course you cannot expect to have one.”
“I don't think there is much chance myself, unless somebody leaves me a fortune,” said Herbert, good-naturedly. “I am satisfied with this boat.”
“Of course it is more than a boy in your circumstances could expect.”
Herbert smiled. He was used to references to his circumstances. James never allowed him to forget that he was a poor boy. He thought it hardly worth noticing.
“Shall we have a race?” he asked.
“Just as you say,” said James.
James thought himself the better rower or he would not have consented to row across the pond.
“Are you ready?” asked Herbert.
“Yes.”
“Give way, then.”
Both bent to their oars and rowed their best. But it was not long before Herbert began to draw away from his antagonist. He had not had as much practice as James, but he was stronger in the arms, and had paid more attention to Cameron's instructions. He came in more than a dozen lengths ahead of his competitor.
“I've won the race, James,” he said, with a smile.
“You ought to,” said James, in a surly tone.
“I haven't had as much practice as you.”
“What if you haven't? You've got a new boat, while mine is old and clumsy.”
“If you think that makes any difference I'll row back with you, changing boats.”
“Agreed,” said James. But James brought up the rear at about the same distance.
“Beaten again,” said Herbert, pleased with his success.
“There's nothing to crow about,” said James, crossly. “Your boat is a good one but I'm not used to it.”
“I am not much used to it myself. I only rowed in it yesterday for the first time.”
“That's long enough to get the hang of it. There isn't much fun in rowing. I'd a good deal rather sail.”
“I like both. There's more exercise in rowing.”
“Don't you get exercise enough in hoeing potatoes?” asked James, with a sneer. “I shouldn't think laborers would need any extra exercise.”
“There's some advantage in varying your exercise. There isn't much fun in hoeing.”
“No, I should think not.”
“Are you going in?” asked Herbert, noticing that James was proceeding to fasten his boat.
“Yes, I've got tired of the water.”
Herbert was not to be alone, however, for just then Mr. Cameron appeared on the bank.
“I think I'll go out with you,” he said.
“All right,” said Herbert, with alacrity, as he rowed the boat to shore.
“Mr. Cameron,” said our hero, “mother has asked me to invite you to take tea with us this evening.”
“I shall be very glad to come,” said Cameron.
“We live in humble style, you know,” said Herbert, “but I told mother you wouldn't mind that.”
“Thank you for saying so. I shall be very glad to meet your mother, and expect to enjoy myself better than at Squire Leech's table. It isn't the style, but the company. Why is James going away so soon?”
“I have beaten him in two races,” said Herbert.
“I am not surprised to hear of your success. You are really gaining very fast.”
“I am glad of it. I want to be a good rower.”
“It is a good thing to do well anything you undertake, whether it be rowing or anything else.”
“James thinks I don't need to row for exercise.”
“Why not?”
“He thinks I shall get enough exercise in hoeing potatoes,” answered Herbert, with a smile.
“It wouldn't do him any harm to get exercise in the same way.”
“The very idea would shock him.”
At five o'clock Mr. Cameron knocked at the door of Mrs. Carter's cottage. It was opened by Herbert himself.
“Walk in, Mr. Cameron,” he said, cordially. “My mother is in the next room.”
Mrs. Carter was prepossessed in favor of Cameron. In worldly advantages he was her superior; yet with the instinct of a gentleman he seemed unconscious of any such difference and did not exhibit the least trace of condescension, as many ill-bred persons might have.
“I have wanted to see you, Mrs. Carter,” he said. “As the mother of my professor, the desire was only natural.”
“Herbert tells me he has learned a good deal since he has been reading to you. He has often spoken of his good fortune in meeting you.”
“I feel equally fortunate in meeting him. Not every boy of his age would adapt himself as readily and intelligently as he has.”
“I am very glad if you find Herbert of service to you,” said Mrs. Carter. “In all ways the engagement has been of advantage to him.”
“Squire Leech was kind enough to offer me the services of his son, James,” said Cameron, smiling.
“James would hardly have been willing to sacrifice so much of his time,” said Herbert, “though he might be willing to try it for a day or two to supersede me.”
“I think I shall have to worry along with my present professor,” said Cameron, “and allow James to devote his superior talents to some other business.”
The table was already spread in honor of the guest, and both Herbert and Mrs. Carter were gratified to find that the young collegian did ample justice to the meal.
“I feel almost ashamed of my appetite,” said Cameron; “but the change from the stereotyped bill of fare at the hotel is pleasant and gives the food an increased relish.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Cameron; I could hardly expect to compete with the hotel in point of variety. Let me give you another cup of tea.”
“Thank you. I don't often venture on a third cup, but I think I will make an exception to-night.”
“Dr. Johnson sometimes got up to a dozen, I believe,” said Herbert.
“He exceeded that number at times; but we must remember that the cups in his day barely contained a third as much as ours, so he was not so immoderate, after all. His excesses in eating were less pardonable.”
“Was he a very large eater?” asked the widow.
“He actually gorged himself, if we are to believe the accounts that have come down to us,” said Cameron. “I am afraid, Mrs. Carter, you would have found him a very unprofitable boarder.”
“But,” said Herbert; “there is one of Dr. Johnson's labors I shall not seek to imitate. I shall never attempt to write a dictionary.”
“It must be a monotonous and wearisome labor. Besides, I don't think we could either of us improve upon Webster or Worcester.”
They arose, and Mrs. Carter, who could not afford to keep a servant, herself cleared away the tea table.
“Herbert,” said the young collegian, “you mentioned one day that your father was an inventor.”
“He made one invention, but whether it will amount to anything, I don't know. He had high hopes of it, but died before he had any opportunity of testing its value.”
“Will you show it to me?”
“With pleasure.”
Herbert led Cameron upstairs into his own chamber, where, since his father's death, the work which had cost his father so many toilsome hours had been kept. Cameron examined it carefully. Herbert waited anxiously for his verdict. At length he spoke.
“As far as I am qualified to judge,” he said, “your father's invention seems to embody an improvement. But you must not rely too much upon my opinion. My knowledge of the details of manufacturing is superficial. I should like to show it to my father.”
“There is nothing that I would like better,” said Herbert, “if you think he would be willing to examine it.”
“He would be glad to do so. It is for his interest to examine anything which will facilitate the details of his business. I am intending to go home next Friday afternoon, and, with your permission, will carry this with me.”
“I shall feel very much obliged to you if you will,” said Herbert. “It may be worth nothing. I know it would have been my father's wish to have it examined by one who is qualified to judge.”
“It is a pity your father could not have lived to enjoy the benefit of his invention, if it succeeds.”
“He was a great loss to us,” said Herbert. “There were but three of us, and he was at an age when we might hope to have him with us for a good many years yet. If I had been a few years older, I should have been better able to make up his loss to my mother.”
“She is fortunate in having a son who is so willing to do his best for her,” said Cameron, kindly. “We don't know what the future may have in store for us, Herbert; but you may rely upon my continued friendship.”
Herbert pressed the hand of the young collegian warmly, for he knew that the offer of service was no empty compliment, but made in earnest sincerity.
The evening passed pleasantly and at nine o'clock Cameron took his leave. Herbert accompanied him as far as the hotel. He was walking leisurely back when he heard his name called and, turning, saw that it was James Leech who had accosted him.
“Where have you been, Carter?” inquired James; “been to see Mr. Cameron, I suppose? Doesn't he get enough of your company in the daytime?”
“You must ask him that. He has been taking tea at our house and I accompanied him home.”
“He took supper at your house!”
“Yes.”
“He seems very fond of keeping low company.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Herbert, his eyes flashing with indignation at this insolence.
“I mean what I say,” answered James, doggedly.
“Then I advise you hereafter to keep your impudence to yourself,” retorted Herbert; “and for fear you may forget it, I give you this as a reminder.”
An instant later James Leech found himself lying on his back on the sidewalk with Herbert bending over him.
He kept upon his feet, pale with rage and mortification.
“I'll be revenged upon you yet, you brute!” he shrieked, in his rage leaving our hero victor of the field.
“I wouldn't have touched him if he hadn't spoken against my mother,” said Herbert.