Читать книгу Two College Friends - Frederic W. Loring - Страница 3

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It was quarter after two in the afternoon, and the Professor was sitting at his desk, engaged in arranging the notes of his lecture, when there came a knock on the door.

“Come in,” said the Professor. “Ah, Ned! is it you?” This to a graceful boy of twenty, who entered the room.

“Yes, it is Ned,” said the boy; “and he particularly wishes to see you for a few minutes.”

“Every moment is precious,” said the Professor, “until my lecture is in order. What is the matter? Are you in trouble?”

“Yes,” said Ned, “I am in trouble.”

“Then let me read to you,” said the Professor, “the concluding paragraph of my lecture on Domestic Arts.”

“Oh, don’t!” said Ned; “I really am in trouble.”

“Are you the insulter or the insulted, this time?” asked the Professor.

“Neither,” said Ned, shortly; “and I’m not in trouble on my own account.”

“Ah!” said the Professor; “then you have got into some difficulty in your explorations in low life; or you have spent more than your income; or it’s the perpetual Tom.”

“It’s the perpetual Tom,” said Ned.

“I supposed so,” observed the Professor. “What has that youth been doing now? Drinking, swearing, gambling, bad company, theft, murder?—out with it! I am prepared for anything, from the expression of your face; for anything, that is to say, except my lecture on Domestic Arts, which comes at three.”

“Well, if you choose to make fun of me,” said Ned, “I can go; but I thought you would advise me.”

“And so I will, you ridiculous creature, when you need it,” said the Professor; “only at such times you generally act for yourself. But, come; my advice and sympathy are yours; so what has Tom done?”

“He has fallen in love,” said Ned.

“Oh, no!” said the Professor.

“Yes, sir,” repeated Ned, more firmly, “he has fallen in love.”

“ ’Tis the way of all flesh,” said the Professor; “but I don’t think Tom can fall in love. He never even dislikes any one without a cause.”

“That’s all very well, sir,” said Ned; “but when a fellow has a girl’s picture, and looks at it when he thinks he isn’t watched; and when he receives notes, and keeps them, instead of throwing them around, as usual; and when he takes to being blue—what do you say?”

“Please state your propositions separately,” said the Professor, “and I will endeavor to form an opinion. When a fellow has a girl’s picture—what was the rest?”

“I wish you wouldn’t make fun of me,” said Ned.

“Well, in Heaven’s name, what is there to trouble you, if Tom is in love?” asked the Professor.

“Because he hasn’t told me,” said Ned.

“Oh! you are jealous then,” rejoined the Professor. “You are the most selfish person, for one who is so generous, that I have ever seen. You are morbid upon the subject of Tom, I believe.”

“Well, look here,” said Ned; “I have neither father nor mother; I have no one except Tom. I care more for him than for any one else in the world, as you know; but you never will know how much I care for him; and it does seem hard that he should shut me out of his confidence when I have done nothing to forfeit it. There’s some girl at the bottom of all this. He and that big Western friend of his, the Blush Rose, whom I never liked, have been off together two or three times; and, as I say, Tom has got this picture; and the Blush Rose knows it, and knows who she is. I’ve seen them looking at it, and admiring it. I’m afraid, from Tom’s not telling me about it, that he’s doing something out of the way.”

“In that case,” said the Professor, “you had better let me read you the closing paragraph of my lecture on Domestic Arts.”

“No, I thank you,” said Ned; “I shall have to hear it, any way, this afternoon.”

“So you will,” said the Professor; “and, by the way, I shall give you a private if you behave to-day as you did in my last lecture. I have told your class-tutor to warn you.”

“Well, that is pleasant,” said Ned.

“I meant it to be,” replied the Professor. “Good-by. I may call at your room to-night—to see Tom.”

And, as Ned was heard going down the stairs, the Professor, seeing that he had still twenty-five minutes to spare, took his lecture, and sat down before the fire, which flickered slightly, and just served to destroy the dampness of that April day.