"Edmund, I beseech you, come with me; it is not worth minding--leave these boys to themselves; they do not harm me." "Go away, Roland; I must punish them in a way which they will never forget." Roland, however, persevered, and succeeded in drawing away his friend. The boys each had black eyes, swollen faces, and torn coats for their reward. They did not again try the same game, but their hatred of Roland was by no means lessened; it was rather increased. The term drew rapidly to a close--Roland was looking forward anxiously to his embarkation on the theatre of human life. He knew that he had nothing but his education, and simple trust in God. That was enough for his confidence. He graduated with high honors. Edmund was to stay another year, and grieved to part with his friend. Dr. Kingsley congratulated Roland warmly-- "You have done nobly, sir," said the President; "your friends may well be proud of you." "You forget, my dear sir, I have but two, who care particularly for my success, and they are both young girls; one my sister, and the other a little friend." The good President gave him warm parting counsels, and on shaking his hand for the last time, said, "Remember, you have friends at college; your Alma Mater will always be proud of her son." The young men were all busily occupied, and full of eager anticipations. Vacation had arrived, and all had some dear home circle waiting for them, but Roland. He had none; and, on the waste of life, sometimes he could not but feel like a waif among the multitude, but never long. "Looking aloft" was the general tone of his brave spirit. With five dollars in his pocket-book, he prepared to leave the college; and, on opening it, he found ten dollars more, with the pencilled words-- "You have been a faithful banker; accept this from Edmund." Taking leave of his kind friends, he turned his face towards Woodcliff, and Effie looked with pride upon her dear brother, as she read the diploma over and over again. "Would not our dear mother be happy, Roland?" said the young girl; "you have accomplished her desires; may all the rest be fulfilled, dear brother." CHAPTER XV. STRIFE. "Where are you going, Roland?" asked Effie, with an anxious face. "I think to New York, sister." "Have you any money, Roland?" "But very little, sister, excepting in the bank of Heaven;" was the reply, and yet Roland smiled, it seemed so daring to set out on life's journey so penniless. "I have five dollars, brother, you must take it; Miss Matilda gave it to me for some very fine work which I have just finished for Madeline;" and away ran Effie to bring her pocket-book, and attempted to empty its contents into Roland's hand. Roland shrank from the gift. "I have fifteen dollars, Effie, that must do until I reach the great city." "What do you expect to do, Roland?" "I shall see when I reach New York." "How shall I write to you? I shall be so anxious."