"He has done nothing to offend you, Stanley, and yet you take every opportunity to insult him. I tell you, sir, that I know Roland Bruce--neither you nor I could have the independence which he exhibits; and, so far from humbling him, in my estimation, it exalts him; though I know that I never could reach it--I could not saw wood and black shoes for my education." When the students met again in the dining-hall, Norris stepped up to Roland, and said, "Your seat is by me henceforth at the table." "How is this?" inquired Roland, surprised. "I made the request, that's all; you shall be treated properly." Several of the students frowned on finding themselves so near to "Boots," as they termed him; when speaking _of_, not _to_ Roland Bruce. "How long since you were knighted, Sir Edmund?" asked Stanley; "I find that you have taken your place among the sons of chivalry." "If I am entitled to the name for righting the oppressed, very well, I _am_ Sir Edmund Norris." Roland, with his quiet dignity of demeanor, really did not look very much in need of patronage; although truly grateful to the generous young soul, who was always his champion. Our young student had secured the universal respect of the faculty--Dr. Kingsley was his firm, tried friend; he furnished him with all his necessary text-books, so that the five dollars were yet untouched. Mrs. Jennings, the matron, was extremely kind, looking after his little stock of clothes, keeping them as neat as possible, and not unfrequently adding a collar or two, a handkerchief, or a pair of stockings to his scanty wardrobe. "Can't you stop in my room a minute, Roland?" said the good lady. "I thank you, my dear madam, but I really have no time to day." "Always busy, my son; may you be rewarded for your patient industry." "Thank you, my good, kind friend;" and Roland's heart swelled with emotion, for he had heard but one kind womanly voice since he had lost his dear mother, and that was good Mrs. Romaine's. "There is a box for you, Roland," said the janitor; and, much to his surprise, he found quite a large box in his little attic, accompanied by a letter from sister Effie; so full of love and tender recollection, that, for a moment, it quite unmanned him. "You will find many useful things, dear Roland; don't ask how I got them; my own hands made the shirts and hemmed the handkerchiefs; they come to you from a very dear friend. The suit of clothes comes from Mr. Hamilton, who has heard of your course at college, and who was quite chagrined that you should go without seeing him; but the shirts and handkerchiefs are a secret." Roland opened the box, and there he found a suit of clothes, half a dozen shirts, stockings, and handkerchiefs, with other valuable and necessary things. He bowed his knee before his Father in Heaven, and blessed him for the gift, for really his old clothes were completely worn out. Stars in the night season shining still around him--why should he ever doubt?