“I’m not going up to-night, either,” he said, quietly. Delavan turned back in amazement. “But my dear man,” he exclaimed, “to-morrow morning is Commencement! You’re on the Commencement stage!” “Yes, I know. I shall not be there.” The young professor came back into the room and sat down. “Parmenter,” he said, “what does this mean? Surely you are not going to let the honors of Commencement Day slip by you in order to meet Professor Lee and Charley as they land? I know something of what has happened between you, and what you hope for in the way of reconciliation, and let me assure you that this action is certainly uncalled for. Pardon me, my dear boy, but it’s foolish!” Then Parmenter awoke. “Look here, professor!” he said warmly. “I have been waiting for this meeting for two years. I have thought of it night and day. The hope that it may not be wholly fruitless has kept me from disgrace and despair. Do you suppose that a petty prize or the gratification of a selfish ambition would be enough to send me running like a coward from it now?” “Why, Parmenter, I didn’t know that you--I--” “I wronged Professor Lee!” interrupted Parmenter, hotly. “I wronged him terribly. I contributed my share, and it wasn’t a small one, to his son’s disgrace; and I’ve never said to him one word of contrition, of repentance, or regret. It’s too late to make him any adequate reparation now; but I can be here to meet him and Charley when they land, to acknowledge my fault to him, to tell him of my grief and humility, and ask him to try me again, and prove me that I am wiser and juster than I was. Now tell me, professor, isn’t that the least that I can do and have any semblance of a man about me?” Parmenter had risen in his excitement, and stood with flashing eyes, flushed face, and heaving breast. Delavan went up to him and took both his hands. “I understand you, my dear fellow,” he said, quietly. “You are right. Come, let’s telegraph up to them that we’ll not be there. Then we’ll go back up town.” Commencement Day dawned bright and beautiful. It always did. No one had ever known a rainy Commencement Day at Old Concord; and the day was just as beautiful on New York Bay as it was in the college city. The ocean vessel had been sighted late in the morning; and the excursion steamer, with more than a hundred enthusiastic men and women on board, was pulling rapidly down to meet her. The little boat was gay with bunting. Flags and banners floated from every pole and post. A great streamer at the bow bore the name of “Concord,” and another at the stern displayed the college cry.