sitive natures as Harold's. But not even Dick St.
Claire could keep Tom Tracy in check. With each succeeding year he grew
more and more supercilious and unbearable, pluming himself upon his
position as a Tracy of Tracy Park, and this wealth he was to inherit
from his Uncle Arthur. For the last year he had been at Andover, where
he had formed a new set of acquaintances, one of whom was spending the
vacation with him. This was young Fred Raymond, whose home was at Red
Stone Hall, in Kentucky, and whose parents were in Europe. Between the
two youths there was but little similarity of taste or disposition, for
young Raymond represented all that was noble and true, and though proud
of his State and proud of his name, never assumed the slightest
superiority over those whom the world considered his inferiors. He was
Tom's room-mate, and hence the intimacy between them which had resulted
in Fred's accepting the invitation to Tracy Park. If anything had been
wanting to complete Tom's estimate of his own importance this visit of
the Kentuckian would have done it. All his former friends were cut
except Dick St. Claire, while Harold was as much ignored as if he had
never existed. Tom did not even see him or recognize him with so much as
a look, but passed him by as he would any common day laborer whom he
might chance to meet. All through the summer days, while Harold was
working until every bone in his body ached, Tom and his friend were
enjoying themselves in hunting, fishing, driving, or rowing, or lounging
under the trees in the shady lawns.

That afternoon when Jerry joined him in the hayfield, Tom and the
Kentuckian had passed him in their fanciful hunting-suits with their
dogs and guns, but though Harold was within a few yards of them, Tom
affected not to see him, and kept his head turned the other way, as if
intent upon some object in the distance.

Leaning upon his rake, Harold watched them out of sight, with a choking
sensation in his throat as he wondered if it would always be thus with
him, and if the day would never come when he, too, could know what
leisure meant, with no thought for the morrow's bread.

'I am Tom's superior in everything but money, and yet he treats me like
a dog,' he said, as he seated himself upon the grass, where he sat
fanning himself with his straw hat.

When Jerry appeared in view he brightened at once, for in all the world
there was not anything half so sweet and lovely to him as the little