e gradually arose between them a little
cloud, which both felt, and neither could exactly define.

Arthur had kept his promise well with regard to Jerry, who had passed
from him to Vassar, and he would have kept it with Harold, if the latter
had permitted it. But the boy's pride and independence had asserted
themselves at last. He had accepted the course at Andover, and one year
at Harvard, on condition that he should be allowed to pay Arthur back
all he had received as soon as he was able to do it. As he entered
Harvard in advance, he was a junior when he decided to care for himself,
and during the remainder of his college course, which, of course, was
longer than usual, he struggled on, doing what he could during the
summer vacation--teaching school for months at a time--and in the
college reducing his expenses by acting as proctor, and compelling
obedience to the rules of the institution. Even the few who were aware
of his limited means, and his efforts to increase them, had to
acknowledge, as he stood before the multitude, delivering the
valedictory, and exciting thunders of applause by his graceful gestures
and thrilling eloquence, that he was not only an orator, but every inch
a gentleman.

His fellow students who saw him then, and listened entranced to his
clear, well-trained voice, thought not of Harold's threadbare coat and
shining old-fashioned pants, which were so conspicuous as he pursued his
studies in the class-room, but which were now concealed by the gown he
wore over them. They saw only the large, dark eyes, the finely chiseled
features, and the manly form. But as they listened to the burning words
which showed so much clear, deep thought, they said to each other:

'The young man has a future before him. Such eloquence as that could
move the world, and rouse or quiet the wildest mob that ever surged
through the streets of mad Paris.'

Jerry was there, and saw and heard. And when Harold's speech was over,
and the building was shaking with applause, and flowers were falling
around him like rain, she, too, stood up and cheered so loudly that a
Boston lady, who sat in front of her, and who thought any outward show
of feeling vulgar and ill-bred, turned and looked at her wonderingly and
reprovingly. But in her excitement Jerry did not see the disapprobation
in the cold, proud eyes. She saw only what she mistook for enquiry, and
she answered eagerly:

'That's Harold--that's my brother! Oh, I am so proud