There was one face, however, which was steadily set against his growing popularity from the first. This was Jimmy, his school-mate in Huntsville and his room-mate here. After a few evenings, he gave up study and withdrew himself from his friend more and more. He knew almost as much as Tom, but he cared nothing at all about it, except to be envious of his friend’s position. “I can write as well as he,” he would often say, but when asked to send a letter, he would always refuse. So he continually boasted of the amount he knew, but would never show his knowledge. Their rooming together had been pleasant at first, but of late there had been scarcely a word between them. Jimmy shunned him on every occasion, and when forced into his company would say sneering things with regard to Tom’s “great learning,” as he called it. Yet still Tom was uniformly kind and polite, and when those around would silence Jimmy in some one of his insolent speeches, his replies came always mild and gentle. This conduct gained for him more friends and more kindly attention to the words he spoke for Jesus than anything else could have done. It does not take learned minds to know when those around them live according to their profession. Not a word of all this reached Martha; and when, months after, he told her of the struggle of these days, she knew that only the strength given him from above had enabled him to bear it. No, the letters that came as a piece of freshness and unbounded pleasure to Martha were full of whatever Tom could find of love and cheer to put in them. Of his efforts in the work for Jesus he told her, with a longing to do more, but there was no mention of trials or difficulties, and the letters were read and put carefully away with just the feeling of joy and thankfulness which Tom had striven for when he wrote them. [Illustration] CHAPTER IV. “Leave God to order all thy ways, And hope in him, whate’er betide; Thou’lt find him in the evil days: An all-sufficient strength and guide Who trusts in God’s unchanging love, Builds on a rock that naught can move.” GEORGE NEWMARK’S HYMN.