hree months passed, and tom was still a boarder with the middletons. the academy—for there was one in the town—was in session, and tom was numbered among the pupils. james davenport, his sister imogene, and mary somers, also attended. edwin, who had only been on a visit, had returned to his home in the city.

our hero had easily gained an ascendency in the school. his physical prowess made his companions shy of opposing him, and i am compelled to say that he showed a disposition to assert authority over his school-fellows. he oftentimes insisted on carrying his point, when it would have been in better taste to consult the wishes of others. there was evidently some ground for the name which he had won in his former home, that of the bully of the village. but tom had redeeming traits. he always sided with the weaker against the stronger. though he domineered over the smaller boys, he allowed no one else to do so. he had more than once interfered to protect younger boys from the exactions of the lawyer’s son, who was also inclined to be despotic, but was mean as well. james was always compelled to give in to tom, partly because he was afraid of him, but partly, also, because he respected tom’s wealth. “a boy who is rich has a right to command,” thought james. still he did not like tom, nor did tom like him, but james thought it best to preserve the peace between them. as for imogene, she partly liked and partly hated our hero. he was rich, and she was ambitious of receiving his attentions, but she hated him because he would often neglect her and devote himself to mary somers, who, poor girl, received more than one angry lecture from her jealous cousin.

“was it my fault that tom chose to go home with me?” she asked on one occasion.

“probably you invited him?” sneered imogene.

“i did not.”

“then you looked as if you wanted him to come. i know your sly ways, miss.”

“you are too bad, imogene. go and speak to tom, if you want to—i am not to blame. besides, doesn’t he go home with you sometimes?”

“that is different. i am his social equal. he is rich, and so am i. but you are as poor as poverty.”

“it isn’t very kind to be reminding me of that all the time.”

“i wouldn’t if you didn’t forget your place. you seem to forget that you have got to earn your own living.”

“i wish i could now,” said mary rather bitterly. “i would rather work among strangers, no matter how hard, than to be a dependent, and be continually twitted with my poverty.”

“there’s gratitude for you,” said imogene sarcastically.

“i would defy any one to feel grateful to you,” said mary with some spirit.

“i wish pa would follow my advice and send you to a boarding-school,” said imogene.

“i wish he would,” answered her cousin. “i might get a little peace then.”

“fine talk, miss. you wouldn’t be willing to leave your darling tom.”

mary was about to reply, when both girls started, for it so happened that our hero was close behind them.

“who is talking about me?” he asked roguishly, for he had heard the word “darling.”

“imogene,” said mary quickly.

“thank you for your flattering opinion of my humble self,” said tom, bowing low.

“it’s a mistake,” said imogene. “i was alluding to mary’s unwillingness to go to a boarding-school because she would be separated from you.”

“is that true?” asked tom, turning to mary with evident pleasure.

“it is true that i should miss you, tom,” said mary frankly.

“i am glad to hear that.”

“but still there are reasons why i should be willing to go to a boarding-school.”

“couldn’t we go together?” asked tom insinuatingly.

“i am afraid you couldn’t pass for a girl,” said mary laughing.

“i am afraid not,” said tom reflectively. “my mustache would betray me.”

“there isn’t enough of it to do any harm,” said mary saucily.

“i will be revenged for that,” said tom. “when you slight my mustache you touch me in my tenderest point.”

“mary,” said imogene sharply, “i wish you would stop talking nonsense.”

imogene disliked particularly the familiarity that marked mary’s conversation with our hero. though she had known him equally long, she did not venture upon a similar tone, nor would she have succeeded very well in badinage, for she had little sense of humor. it made her angry to think tom was more intimate with her poor cousin than with herself.

“let us be serious, then,” said tom. “is it true that you are going to a boarding-school, mary?”

“ask imogene.”

tom turned to imogene.

“very probable,” said imogene snappishly.

“and shall you go too?”

“oh, no,” answered the young lady. “i should not be willing to give up my fine home for the shabby accommodations of a boarding-school.”

“then why is your cousin to go?”

“her case is different.”

“why?”

“i’ll tell you,” answered mary, her lip curling, “and spare imogene the trouble. i am a poor relation. some time i’ve got to work for my living. it doesn’t matter much about me. the shabby accommodations of a boarding-school will suit me very well.”

“that is perfectly true,” said imogene sharply, “though you probably don’t mean it. as you can’t expect anything better than a common home when you are grown up, it would be better that you should prepare for it in a boarding-school than to become accustomed to luxury in my father’s house.”

“you are extremely considerate, imogene,” said mary. “i suppose i ought to feel grateful to you for thinking so much about what would be best for me.”

“i don’t expect any gratitude from you, miss,” retorted imogene, “though my papa does board you and pay all your bills.”

“tom must feel very much interested in our conversation,” said mary, flushing with mortification.

“uncommonly,” said tom. “do i understand that you mean to earn your living some day?”

“yes, if i get the chance.”

“what are you going to do?”

“be a teacher—seamstress—anything.”

“good!” said tom. “i’ll engage you to give me lessons.”

“in what?”

“sewing,” said tom gravely; “or would you recommend knitting?”

mary laughed.

“i should prefer sewing, as i understand it better; but i am afraid you won’t be patient enough.”

“try me.”

by this time they had reached the lawyer’s house, and the two girls entered. imogene was thoroughly in earnest in her resolution to get rid of mary.

that evening a family conclave was held; the papers were examined for the advertisement of a cheap boarding-school, the cheapest was selected, and early the next week mary somers started by the coach for a new home.

as the coach whirled away imogene looked after it with exultation.

“i’ve got rid of her,” she exclaimed, “and now i shall have tom all to myself.”

but tom’s own stay in plympton was to be short, though she did not know it, nor he either.