"Gerald," said his stepmother, "this is my son, Abel."

 

"I am glad to see you, Abel," said Gerald, politely, holding out his hand.

 

Abel seemed undecided whether to take it or not, but finally held out his own. He surveyed Gerald disapprovingly². He could not help noticing, with a feeling of envy, that Gerald was superior to him in refinement³ and personal appearance.

 

"Have you ever been in Portville before?" asked Gerald.

 

"No," was Abel's brief reply.

 

"I shall be glad to go about with you whenever you like, and show you the village."

 

"Abel is too tired to-day," said Mrs. Lane, in her usual cold tone of voice.

 

"No," said Abel, unexpectedly; "I'll go along with you."

 

"Be back in half an hour," said Mrs. Lane. "We shall have supper early this evening."

 

"All right," said Gerald.

 

"I believe you have been at boarding-school," said Gerald, as they left the house.

 

"Yes; it's a beastly place."

 

"Indeed? I never was in such a school, and I don't understand what it is like. What were your objections to it?"

 

"The living was very poor."

 

"Did you learn much? Did you have good teachers?"

 

"Oh, I don't care much about studying. It's all very well for poor boys. But I sha'n't have to earn my living—mother'll take care of me."

 

Gerald winced⁴. He understood very well that the money upon which Abel depended was, or should have been, his own.

 

"I suppose you had sports?"

 

"Yes; the boys played baseball and other things."

 

"Do you like baseball?"

 

"Not much. I wanted to be captain of the club, but the boys wouldn't let me."

 

"I hope you will like Portville. We have an academy here. Perhaps you will attend."

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