powers and places,
than when, in the darkening wood shed, he spoke these words:

'But, Josey, will things always be the same with us?'

--Things had changed, indeed. The whole world had changed since then.
Had the changing world rolled in between them? Since then the widow
Mitchell had worked her way out of the worst of her distresses.
Josephine had become a beautiful woman. Paul was striding on toward a
profession. The family had removed to one of those box-like dwellings
opposite the college grounds, and the fair face of Mrs. Mitchell's
daughter was the theme of many a student's dreaming--of Harry
Cromwell's, most conspicuous among students--of his dreaming, day and
night. It was his book she held.

III.

It happened, of course, that Paul dropped into Scheffer's shop the next
day. August was on the lookout, and conducted him forthwith into a quiet
corner. The books were there delivered, but the package remained
unopened. Scheffer had his reasons. He wanted leisure to examine
them--above all, privacy. He also saw, or thought he saw, that Paul was
in haste to be gone; and there was something on his mind of which he
desired to be free.

Paul was only disturbed about a proposal he wished to make to Scheffer.

He was electrified when Scheffer himself broached the subject, and
transacted it half, at a stroke, though all unconsciously, by asking:

'What has become of Hal Cromwell? He took so many prizes last year.'

Paul's eyes brightened strangely, his whole countenance became luminous.
Scheffer surveyed the change as if it were not half agreeable to him.
'Harry is here yet, but he won't be long. That's a secret, though. He's
going to France. Guess how.'

'In a balloon, I suppose. He hasn't any money.'

'No,' said Paul, half offended at the tone in which this was spoken.
'He's going to work his passage. He's one of the fellows who can do
without money.'

'Indeed!' said Scheffer.

Paul went on: 'He hasn't more than twenty dollars. He sold all his
prizes long ago.'

'Is he going to travel?' asked Scheffer, quietly.

'Travel! no. Not yet awhile, I mean. He's mad, just now, on minerals and
geology. He's going to school in Paris, where he can learn all about
such things. Then he's going to hunt up specimens for cabinets; then
he'll be sending curiosities over here by the ship load. If any one
wanted to speculate, he'd pay an enormous interest on the money lent
him. But catch him asking the loan of a threepenn