heads together whispering, nodding, and smiling approval.  “Damon and Pythias,” “Orestes and Pylades,” were the names bestowed upon the two friends.  But at length courtesy demanded that the audience should give some little attention to the reading of the Greek thesis, whether they understood a word of it or not.  Their patience was not put to a long test.  The reading was a matter of about fifteen minutes, and at its close the three examiners conversed together for a few moments.

And then Professor Adams arose and announced the young author of the thesis which he had just read as the successful competitor for the highest honors of the school, and requested him to come forward and be invested with the prize.

“Now it is my time to wish you joy, and to say, ’Go where glory waits you,’ Ishmael!” whispered Walter, pressing his friend’s hand and gently urging him from his seat.

Ishmael yielded to the impulse and the invitation, and went up to the table.  Professor Adams leaned forward, threw the slender gold chain, to which the watch was attached, around the neck of Ishmael, saying: 

“May this well-earned prize be the earnest of future successes even more brilliant than this.”

Ishmael bowed low in acknowledgment of the gold watch and the kind words, and amid the hearty applause of the company returned to his seat.

The business of the day was now finished, and as it was now growing late in the afternoon, the assembly broke up.  The “public” who had come only for the examination returned home.  The “friends” who had been invited to the ball repaired first to the dining room to partake of a collation, and then to chambers which had been assigned them, to change their dresses for the evening.

CHAPTER XXXI.

ISHMAEL HEARS A SECRET FROM AN ENEMY.

  Shame come to Romeo?  Blistered be thy tongue
  For such a wish!  He was not born to shame;
  Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;
  For ’tis a throne where honor may be crowned,
  Sole monarch of the universal earth!

  —­Shakspere.

In the interval the drawing room was rapidly cleared out and prepared for dancing.  The staging at the upper end, which had been appropriated to the use of the examining committee, was now occupied by a band of six negro musicians, headed by the Professor of Odd Jobs.  They were seated all in a row, engaged in tuning their instruments under the instructions of Morris.  The room wore a gay, festive, and inviting aspect.  It was brightly lighted up; its white walls were festooned with wreaths of flowers; its oak floor was polished and chalked for the dancers; and its windows were all open to admit the pleasant summer air and the perfume of flowers, so much more refreshing in the evening than at any other time of the day.