"But you never came, Georgy." "Oh, I am past sixteen now, and mamma will not let me go and see boys." "I see," said I with an indefinable sigh, "that you are almost a woman. And Jack is eighteen." "The boys are so full of their examinations! Do you think Jack will pass? He is such a stupid old dear! I always feel as if I knew the most, yet I know nothing--actually nothing at all." "Jack will pass. Whatever place in the world he tries for will always be ready and waiting for him. I am more anxious about Harry: he cares so little about his chances, and trusts always to inspiration and good luck." Georgy looked at me somewhat curiously: "Don't you feel badly, Floyd, to have the boys go to college and leave you behind?" We three had planned years ago how we were to enter college together, yet no one of us had yet alluded to my disappointment, and it was difficult for me to bear her question and answer it unflinchingly. "This is one of my many hard things to bear, Georgy." "'Tis dreadful for you," she exclaimed with energy. "To think what you were, Floyd, a tall, handsome, dandified fellow, and now changed all at once into a hopeless cripple!" I even found the strength to endure this and give no sign. In my darkest hours of dejection I had said these words to myself, but no one had hitherto uttered them within my hearing. "I wonder," she went on, "what you will do? Shall you try to be a doctor, Floyd?" "No, Georgy: I have given up that idea." "It does seem wretched. What does Mr. Floyd say?" "Everything that is most considerate. I have had a hard experience, Georgy, but I have at last learned how tender and faithful many of my friends are." I regarded her steadily, and she flushed crimson.