He had expected his mother and sister on at Commencement, to share in his success. He would have to write to them now that they need not come. Worse than that, he would have to tell them the reason why. There were others, too, people in the city, who knew of his hopes and ambitions in oratory. He did not see how he could meet them now, or speak to them on the subject. Another man would take his place on the stage. For some one else there would be the golden opportunity, the exhilaration of oratory, the admiration of the crowd, the ribboned bouquets, the rolling applause, the splendid triumph. Still he sat looking out upon the western sky. One star was glowing in the clear expanse. Below the horizon there was nothing but darkness, pricked here and there by the lights of far-off electric lamps. At home there was a western porch where he had often sat with his mother and sister to watch just such an evening scene as this. His lips began to quiver, and his eyes to fill with tears. He turned back into the room, laid his head down on his bed, and gave way, for the first time in years, to a prolonged fit of weeping. But Parmenter’s flood of tears had not the effect to clear his mental sky. When he awoke on the following morning his heart was as hard and bitter toward Professor Lee as before; this feeling, strangely enough, still overshadowing his resentment against Van Loan. As for Charley, Parmenter felt that it was all over between them now. The quarrel of the day before had settled that; and while, in his own mind, he knew that he had provoked it, yet Charley had said some things in his anger which he could not forget. After the blow had fallen, Parmenter had not cared to leave his room until night, nor to converse with anybody; and he had not yet heard of Lee’s confession. Coming back up the hill from a late breakfast that morning, and turning the corner of South College to go into the chapel, he saw a crowd of students at the bulletin-board reading and discussing some notice posted thereon. He did not need to be told what it was. Instead of going to chapel to be gazed at and commented on, he decided to pass directly to his room. When he was nearly across the campus he met Robinson hurrying over to chapel exercises. The bell was already tolling the final strokes, but Robinson stopped to speak to him. “Well,” he said, as if Parmenter already knew all about it, “you and Charley are cut.” “Charley,” exclaimed Parmenter in surprise. “What’s he cut for?” “Why, for the Van Loan business, you know--same as you.” “And who gave him away?” “Haven’t you heard? He went in before the faculty yesterday, after they got through with you, and accused himself--made a clean breast of it, voluntarily. What do you think of that?” Parmenter did not reply. He was too deeply moved to speak. Robinson went hurriedly on: