Page:Hugh Pendexter--The young timber-cruisers.djvu/248

 Boston. My father was a professor at Exton college till his health gave out. The doctors said only out-of-doors life would save him and so we came here. My mother died when I was very small. We have lived here for four years. He sent me to Boston the first two winters, but as I grew to realize how lonely he must be up here I refused to leave him.”

“Of course you did,” admired Stanley.

“But it was very pleasant,” she quickly insisted. “I was far happier than I could be in Boston at my aunt’s. He tutored me each day, so I knew I was keeping up with my class at the least, and in some studies I have gained over my classmates. One can, you know, when studying alone and putting much time on a subject. But I’m ashamed to talk books with two young men of your experiences.”

“You needn’t feel ashamed as to me,” honestly assured Bub. “I know nothing in books. Had to educate myself, largely, and I haven’t astonished anyone by my progress.”

“He has, Miss Laura,” contradicted Stanley. “He has astonished me. When I reached the mills and he got me work I was mean enough to feel superior to him in book knowledge. You can imagine my confusion—no, you can not; one must make the same