his stepmother in the room where he had left her.
"May I speak to you a moment, Mrs. Oakley?" he said.
"Have you come to apologize for your impertinence to me, and your rudeness to my son?"
"No, I have not," said John.
"Then I don't care to speak to you."
"Excuse me, Mrs. Oakley, but Jane tells me that you have ordered her to remove my things to the attic."
"Well?"
"Is Ben to go into the attic too?"
"No, he is not."
"Then why are you driving me from my room?"
"You seem to forget that you are only a boy. This house is mine, and I shall make what arrangements I please."
"The room in the attic is not nearly as good as my present room."
"It is good enough for you."
"I am willing to go up there if Ben goes up, but I claim to be treated as well as he."
"Ben is older than you. Besides, he is respectful and dutiful, while you are impertinent and disobedient. I shall treat you as well as you deserve."
"Why did you not make this change while my father was alive, Mrs. Oakley?" said John, significantly.
Mrs. Oakley colored, for she understood very well the meaning of this question.
"I do not intend to be catechised by you," she said, sharply. "I intend to do what I please in my own house, and I shall not submit to have my arrangements questioned."
"May I ask how my room is going to be used?" said John, who wanted to be sure whether his stepmother had any motive for the change except hostility to himself.
"No, you may not ask," she said, angrily; "or if you do, you need not expect any answer. And now I will thank you to leave the room, as I have something else to do besides answering impertinent questions."
There was nothing more to say, and John left the room.
"Well, Master John," said Jane, who had waited till his return, "what will I do?"
"You may move the things upstairs, Jane," said John.
"It's a shame," said Jane, warmly.
"Never mind, Jane," said John. "I don't like it much myself, but I dare say it'll all come out right after a while. I'll help you with that trunk. It's rather heavy to carry alone."
"Thank you, Master John. Ben wouldn't offer to help if he saw me breakin' my back under it. It's easy to see which is the gentleman."
The room to which John's things were removed was uncarpeted, the floor being painted yellow. It had been used during Squire Oakley's life by a boy who was employed to run errands, but who had been dismissed by Mrs. Oakley, who was disposed to be economical and save his wages. The bed was a common cot bedstead, comfortable indeed, but of course quite inferior to the neat French bed in which John had been accustomed to sleep. There was a plain pine table and bureau, in which John stored his things. There was a small cracked mirror, and a wash-stand with the paint rubbed off in spots. Altogether it was hardly suitable for a gentleman's son to sleep in. John, however, was not proud, and would not have minded if there had not been malice on the part of his stepmother. He had scarcely got moved when a step was heard on the attic stairs, and Ben came up to enjoy the sight of John's humiliation.
"So you've got a new room, John?" he said, smiling maliciously.
"So it seems," said John, quietly.
"I'm sorry to lose so agreeable a neighbor," he continued.
"Are you?" said John, looking at him searchingly.
"But you'll be more at home up here," said Ben.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean it's more suitable for you."
"Ben Brayton," said John, his eyes flashing, "if you have come up here to insult me, the sooner you go down the better. Your mother has moved me up here, for what reason I don't know. The only satisfaction I have in the change is, that it removes me further from you."
"You're uncommon polite since you've moved into this elegant apartment," said Ben, tauntingly.
"Elegant or not, it is mine, and I want it to myself," said John. "Leave the room!"
He advanced towards Ben as he spoke. Ben thought a moment of standing his ground, but there was something in John's eye that looked threatening, and he concluded that it would be the best policy to obey. With a parting taunt he backed out of the chamber, and John was left to himself.
CHAPTER IV.
BEN BRAYTON'S RIDE
John took his place at the supper-table as usual; but neither Mrs. Oakley nor Ben, though they spoke freely to each other, had a word to say to him. If John had been conscious of deserving such neglect, he would have felt disturbed; but as he felt that all the blame for what had occurred rested with Ben and his mother, he ate with his usual appetite, and did not appear in the least troubled by their silence, nor by the scornful looks which from time to time Mrs. Oakley directed towards him. After supper he went up into his little room, and prepared his lesson in Virgil for the next day. He was at the head of his class, and was resolved to let no troubles at home interfere with his faithful preparation of his lessons.
Ben did not attend school. In fact, he was not very partial to study, and though Squire Oakley had offered to bear his expenses at the academy, and afterwards at college, Ben had persuaded his mother that his health was not firm enough to undertake a long course of study. While, therefore, John was occupied daily for several hours at the academy, Ben had lived like a gentleman of leisure, spending considerable time at the billiard rooms in the village, and in lounging on the hotel piazza. He managed to get through considerable money, but his mother had always kept him well supplied.
Although he did not wish to go to college himself, he did not fancy the idea of John's going, since this would increase the superiority of the latter over him. He knew very well that a liberal education would give John a certain position and influence which he was not likely to attain, and he determined to prevent his obtaining it. When, therefore, John had gone to school the next morning, Ben attacked his mother on the subject.
"Are you going to send John to college, mother?" he asked.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because I don't want him to go."
"Why not?"
"He'll put on no end of airs if he goes, and turn up his nose at me, because I don't happen to know so much about Latin and Greek, and such rigmarole."
"I wish you would make up your mind to go to college, Ben," said his mother, earnestly, for she was very ambitious for her son.
"It's of no use, mother. I'm seventeen, and it would take three years to get ready, and hard study at that."
"You have studied Latin already."
"I don't remember anything about it. I should have to begin all over again."
"Well,"
