Now Frank was a lad no one ever noticed. Perhaps now and then some one of unusual discernment might have said, “that youth has a fine countenance;” but it was a remark that always elicited surprise when it was made, for most persons would have said, with Mrs. Harrington, that he was a “heavy boy.” He was shorter by a head nearly than Arthur, and heavily moulded, and people generally are apt to take the body for the soul, and judge the spirit by the flesh. And, then, though Frank had a fine brow, and clear, well set, deep eye, there was nothing of what Mrs. Harrington called the “flash of genius in his look up.” It was a calm, earnest face, and when in study, there was an intensity of expression, a concentration of attention, that is rare—otherwise he was not a striking, and certainly not a handsome boy. He was rather shy, too, and awkward when brought forward, and one of those who never made a figure on “exhibition days.” In short, he was not one of the _show boys_, which Arthur was. Heads of schools, and teachers generally, are very quick to know the effect produced by such pupils as Arthur. They like to put them forward. All they know _tells_, and what they don’t know is not seen. Manner and appearance never go further than on such occasions. The human heart naturally warms to beauty, and to youthful beauty it is particularly indulgent; and when united to any thing like precocity of talent, it is sure to take the greater part of parents. Consequently Arthur carried off more than one prize at the examinations, that, had he not been so highly endowed with external gifts, might not have been so readily awarded him. But this exhibition, to Mrs. Harrington’s surprise and mortification, Arthur carried off none of the highest premiums. The boy himself was loud in his complaints of injustice and ill-treatment, and Mrs. Harrington lent a willing and indignant ear to all he said.