"But," put in his friend with a quizzical look, "do you know you are preaching a sermon, and I rather enjoy it, too? It sets me thinking. As for such girls as we wined, I don't care a rap for them. If I could find any other and better amusement, they might go hang for all I care. What you say of them is true enough, and I agree with you they are a profitless lot of trash, but what is a fellow going to do to kill time? I try tennis and golf with fellows and girls in our set, but that is tame sport. I go to 'functions' once in a while, and if I dance twice with a pretty girl who has no _dot_, mother glares at me, and says I've no family pride. Most of the girls talk silly nonsense that wearies a fellow, and the more _passe_ they are the worse they gush. The only thing I really enjoy that is respectable is yachting, and then I have trouble to find good fellows who have time to go with me. Once in a while I get disgusted with myself, and wish I had to work for a living." Albert looked surprised. Was it possible that this young and handsome fellow, with dark brown honest eyes, curly black hair, and garb and manner of refinement, who never had known what it was to work, really wanted to earn his own way in the world, just from sheer _ennui_? "Frank," he said at last, "you ought to be ashamed to talk so. You have plenty of money, nothing to do but enjoy yourself, and yet you complain! You ought to have a few months of old Frye. It would reconcile you to your lot." Frank looked sympathetic. "Is he so bad as that?" he said. "No worse than any other old skinflint who feels he owns you, body and brains," replied Albert, "but I do not want to talk about him to-night. I've got the blues." "I am sorry, old man," rejoined Frank in a low tone, "I wish I could help you. Maybe I can in the near future." Albert was silent, while the comparison of his lot with that of his friend passed slowly in review. "It seems to me you have everything to be thankful for, Frank," he said at last in a dejected tone,--"a kind father, good home, plenty of friends, a nice yacht, all the money you want, and nothing to do. With me it is different. Would it bore you if I unloaded a little of my history? I feel like it to-night." "Not a bit," answered Frank, "I would really like to hear it. I didn't know much of your home affairs at college, and since you came to Boston I hated to ask you, for fear you would think me impertinent."