“I am afraid,” he said, “that I couldn't play and dance, too.”
At his age few young men are indifferent to the favorable opinion of young ladies, and Walter would have been glad to have participated in the dancing. However, just at present, money was more acceptable to him than anything else.
When the week was concluded, the professor looked over his accounts and ascertained that Walter's commission amounted to nine dollars and sixty cents. The two dollars he had received for outside services carried his week's earnings to nearly twelve dollars.
He had been out with Professor Robinson a month when he had a surprise. It was in the town of Glenwood. His violin drew the usual crowd, who were listening with complimentary attention, when a young man, who casually paused to judge of the musician's merits, started in amazement.
“By Jove!” he exclaimed to a young lady who accompanied him. “That's my classmate, Sherwood.”
“What do you mean, Hugh?” asked the young lady.
“I mean that the young man who is playing the violin is my college classmate, Walter Sherwood.”
“But what on earth can have put him in such a position? Is he poor?”
“He had the reputation of being rich in college, but I remember that at the close of the sophomore year he was reported to have lost his money.”
“He is nice-looking!” said the young lady, after a critical examination of Walter.