"What about the German?"
"Oh, perhaps I'll do that, too. I don't care much for the German, anyway."
"But you ought to study your lesson, now you have taken it up, Roger."
There was a minute of silence, and Dave turned to his text-books and papers and began to write. Roger drummed on the door and heaved a deep sigh. The ice on the river was growing soft—in a few days skating might be a thing of the past.
"It seems to me you don't care for skating as much as you did, Dave," he said, presently.
"Oh, yes, I do, Roger; but I'm not going to think about it while I have studying to do. I can't forget that, after all is said and done, I am here to get a good education, and that both my father and Mr. Wadsworth expect me to make the most of my opportunities."
Dave returned again to his books and papers and another silence followed. Then the senator's son came in, hung up his skates in the closet, and got out his own schoolbooks and papers.
"Well, if we've got to grind, I suppose it is up to me to do my share," he remarked, with another sigh. "But that ice"
"Don't do it on my account, Roger."
"Yes, but, Dave, I can't stand it to see you grinding alone—when I know I ought to grind too. My father wants me to get a good education, too.
