Chapter 11

Ernest stood leaning against the mantelpiece in his aunt’s bedroom. Never enthusiastic about college, he was growing even less so under the shadow of the impending examinations, now but a month away. His preliminaries had given him a hint that only by hard work could he enter college without conditions. Greek was the great stumbling-block, and he dreaded the final test more than he cared to admit.

“Do change your mind, Aunt Teddy,” he began imploringly.

His aunt, in a low, straight-backed chair, looked up from her sewing.

“Change my mind about what?”

“Oh, you know—going to Harvard. Why must I go?”

Miss Theodora sighed. Had she waited and saved, pleased by the hope of a distinguished college career for Ernest, only to find college with him a question not of “will” but of “must”? Ernest caught her look of disappointment.

“Of course I am perfectly willing to go to Harvard to please you, but—I wish I could study the things Ben studies.”

Miss Theodora’s voice had an unwonted note of sternness in it.

“You are going to Harvard, Ernest, not because I wish it, but because your father wished it; because your father, your grandfather, your great-grandfather, five generations, all were graduates. You will be the sixth of our family in direct line to graduate with honor.”

“Perhaps it won’t be with honor in my case, Aunt Teddy. Remember my Greek.”

Miss Theodora smiled. “I have tried to forget it.” Then as Ernest leaned down to kiss her, “No, no. I can’t be coaxed into saying what I don’t think. Of course you will go to Harvard and be an honor to your family.”

He loved his aunt; he wished to please her; but, oh, if he could only beg off from college! If he could only follow Ben to his scientific school! Ben, no one could deny it, would be a great man, and Ben had not gone to Harvard. Ben and Ralph in contrast presented themselves to Ernest’s mind as his aunt spoke of the “honor of the family.” Changing his lounging position, he stood in an attitude of direct interrogation before Miss Theodora.