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."