lime.

The thought which he dared not utter, but which lay deep under every
resolution and action he made, was the hope, undefined and
unacknowledged to himself, that sometime he might meet her and have her
approve his action.

IV.

BRADLEY'S TRIALS AT SCHOOL.

The morning on which Bradley was to begin his term at the seminary was
a clear, crisp day in later November. He had rented a room in the
basement of a queer old building, known as the Park Hotel, a crazy
mansard-roofed structure which held at regular intervals some rash men
attempting to run it as a hotel.

Bradley had rented this cellar because it was the cheapest place he
could find. He agreed to pay two dollars a month for it, and the use of
the two chairs, and cooking stove, which made up its furnishing. He had
purchased a skillet and two or three dishes, Mrs. Councill had lent him
a bed, and he seemed reasonably secure against hunger and cold.

He looked forward to his entrance into the school with dread. All that
Monday morning he stood about his door watching for Milton and seeing
the merry students in procession up the walk. The girls seemed so
bright and so beautiful, he wondered how the boys could walk beside
them with such calm unconcern. Their laughter, their mutual greetings
threw him into a profound self-pity and disgust. When he joined Milton
and Shepard, and went up the walk under the bare-limbed maple trees, he
shivered with fear. They all seemed perfectly at home, with the
exception of himself.

Milton knowing what to expect smuggled him into the chapel in the midst
of a crowd of five or six others, and thus he escaped the derisive
applause with which the pupils were accustomed to greet each new-comer
at the opening of a term. He gave one quick glance at the rows of
faces, and shambled awkwardly along to his seat beside Milton, his eyes
downcast. He found courage to look around and study his fellow-students
after a little and discovered that several of them were quite as
awkward, quite as ill at ease as himself.

Milton, old pupil as he was (that is to say, this was his second term),
sat beside him and indicated the seniors as they came in, and among the
rest pointed out Radbourn.

"He's the high mucky-muck o' this shebang," Shep whispered.

"Why so?" asked Bradley, looking carefully at the big, smooth-faced,
rather gloomy-looking young fellow.

Shep hit his own head with his fist in a comically significant gesture.
"Brain