CHOOSING A PROFESSION. 141

study there; you seem more sullen than
usual,” said Mrs. Cramer.

Howard’s heart throbbed with pride and
wounded feeling. .He walked slowly and
haughtily out of the school-room; but, in-
stead of going to his own room, he rushed
into the garden, and from thence out upon the
high-road. There he walked on, and on, more
rapidly than he had ever moved before, till
suddenly and unexpectedly he found himself
in front of the brown cottage of Honest
Mixon.

There was Bessie, busy as a bee, planting a
bed of flowers in her own little garden, in front
of the house.

Howard stopped, and leaned over the fence.
Bessie did not observe him, but went on sing-
ing and working. She paused for a moment
when she had finished her song, and as she
did so, heard a deep sigh. She looked up, and
met the eyes of Howard Framingham.

“Oh, Master Framingham, is it you? Is
anything the matter ?”

Howard with some difficulty answered :

“T was thinking how much you looked like