“He has opposed and thwarted me from the first moment of our meeting. He offered me an indignity once, which I have never forgotten or forgiven; he has robbed me of my honors at college and now he has robbed me of you! _I—hate—him!_ and he shall yet feel the force of my hatred in a way to make him wish that he had never crossed my path.” CHAPTER XVIII. A LONG AND INTERESTING CONVERSATION. It is impossible to convey any idea of the anger, malice, and venom contained in these fiercely uttered words, and before Gladys could collect herself sufficiently to make any reply—before she was even aware of his intention—he had sprung past her and disappeared within the hall, leaving her alone upon the balcony, and she saw him no more that night. “Mercy! what a volcanic nature,” she murmured, with a sigh of relief over his departure. “I should pray to be delivered from a life with such a person, let alone trying to learn to love him. No, there can be no relationship between Geoffrey and Everet Mapleson, as I have sometimes imagined there might be. My Geoff is a noble-hearted gentleman; he could never forget himself and give the rein to passion as this fiery young man has done to-night. I hope I shall never meet him again.” She sat down a moment on the low railing of the balcony to recover herself a little more fully before returning to the company. “I wonder,” she mused, “what he meant by Geoffrey thwarting him, and what imaginary indignity—for it could have been nothing more than that—he offered him; and how could he have robbed him of his honors at college? I will ask him when we go to New Haven.” A little later she rejoined her friends, but all enjoyment had been spoiled for her, and seeking Mr. and Mrs. Huntress, she intimated that she was very weary after the excitement of the day, and they were quite willing to retire with her, knowing well that she needed rest. The next morning Gladys bade a long farewell to her classmates and teachers, and then, with Mr. and Mrs. Huntress, left for New Haven to attend the commencement exercises at Yale. We cannot linger over these, or even particularize much. Suffice it to say that Geoffrey acquitted himself most nobly, and Mr. Huntress was as proud of him as if he had really been his own son. His oration was one that was long remembered by his class with great pleasure, and was highly commended by the faculty. Everet Mapleson also shone upon this occasion. He had worked harder during this last year than he had ever worked before during his college life. A feeling of antagonism against Geoffrey, and a desire to win Gladys’ favor, had spurred him on to strive for the post of honor in his class, and the disappointment at his failure was a bitter one. It created a good deal of surprise and comment that two young men so nearly resembling each other, and yet in no way related, should stand so high in their class, and be such brilliant scholars.