“Very good to say so,” he repeated, laughing. “Why should I not say it, when your praises are on every lip, and a pin might have been heard, if one had dropped, while you were addressing the faculty and bidding your classmates farewell. Poor girls! the crystal drops were plentiful over the thought of parting.” “It is a little hard to leave school, Geoff, and all the pleasant friends one has made; don’t you think so?” “Perhaps,” he replied. “I presume it is harder for you than it will be for me, because I am so eager to make a place for myself in the world, and a nest for somebody else.” Gladys blushed at this reference to coming events. “Did I not see Mapleson here?” Geoffrey asked, after a moment. “Yes; and at first I thought he was you; but I soon discovered my mistake.” “I wonder what he is here for?” mused the young lover. “To see me graduate, of course,” Gladys responded, roguishly. “Did you invite him?” “No. A long time ago he asked me to exchange tickets with him for commencement, and I think he has spoken of it every time that we have met since; so, of course, I could hardly help sending him one.” “You have seen a good deal of him during the last two years, haven’t you, Gladys?” “Yes, he has appeared at almost every place that we have visited the last two summers, and he was always in New York during the shorter recesses. I met him constantly in society, and I didn’t like it very well, either.” “Why?” “Because it rather annoyed me to receive his attentions,” Gladys confessed. “Then he _has_ been attentive to you?” the young man asked, studying the face he loved very closely. “Yes, quite so,” Gladys answered; then noticing her lover’s grave, anxious look, she added: “You do not like it, either, do you, Geoff?” “No, dearest, I do not,” Geoffrey replied, frankly, then continued: “Pray, do not misunderstand me—do not suppose that I am disturbed by a petty feeling of jealousy, but there are some traits in Mapleson’s character which make me feel that he is not a proper companion or escort for you.” “Then, Geoff, I will never accept any attention again from him,” Gladys said, quickly. “He has never been very congenial to me in any way, and somehow I have always resented his resemblance to you.” “Why should you?” “I do not know—I cannot account for the feeling, but I have always had it. It may be because I have detected something not quite true in him, and did not like to have him look like you on that account, while it almost seems sometimes as if he were usurping a place that rightfully belongs to you.” “That is impossible, dear, and I am afraid, a sort of morbid fancy,” Geoffrey replied, with gentle reproof. “I have never had such a thought, nor envied him either his high position in the world, or the immense wealth which I have heard will some time be his.” Gladys raised herself on tiptoe and softly touched her lips to her lover’s cheek.