since he came home for the vacation had, seldom passed two days without paying Susan a visit, entered her room with a countenance that plainly denoted something had happened to vex him. His cheeks were crimson, the heavy drops still stood on his long dark lashes, and his pretty lip was curled with indignation.
"Oh, Susan," he cried, throwing himself into a chair, "I wish I was a man!"
"What for, dear?" said Susan. "Don't be in a hurry to wish away time. We know what is, but not what is to come."
"I do though," he said, "that I might be revenged on Mr. Gaveston!"
"Hush, Harry!" answered Susan. "We must leave vengeance to God. But is Mr. Gaveston come to Oakfield?"
"Yes," said he, "he came the day before yesterday; and now I shall be very glad when my holidays are over, and I go back to school. I hate him!"
"But what has he done?" inquired Susan. "You didn't use to hate him, did you?"
"No," replied Harry, "for he didn't use to give himself such airs. When my uncle was alive, he wouldn't have dared to treat me as he does; or to say any thing against Andrew."
