Maria had left New Haven on the two-forty-five train for Boston, the day previous, and he had followed her on the five o’clock express.
It was his intention to steal in just in season to hear Clifford’s oration, then out again as soon as it was delivered, so that no one might know of his surreptitious trip. He missed his calculations, although he was not aware of the fact, for Clifford’s keen eyes had espied him, almost immediately after he took his own seat upon the platform, and instantly he knew that the man, actuated by curiosity, had come to ascertain how he would acquit himself in the trying ordeal before him.
It was really the best thing that could have happened for Clifford, for it at once inspired him with a sense of absolute self-possession and the determination to do himself honor.
“He has come to criticize me,” was his mental comment, “and now I will prove what I once told him—that I would some time win honor and respect for the name I bear.”
A great calm settled over him, although until that moment he had been conscious of a feeling of nervousness in view of facing that great audience, and when he at length arose and went forward, there was not a quiver of even a muscle—he lost all thought of fear in the determination to prove to the man who had once expressed the utmost contempt for him, that he had conquered every obstacle, and attained the goal he had sought.
And even this motive was soon swallowed up in his all-absorbing theme, which he handled with remarkable skill and originality. His production not only showed careful research and a thorough knowledge of his subject, but sound logic, clear and brilliant reasoning, and the power to gain and hold the attention of his audience by his graceful diction, and a fluency that was absolutely irresistible.
His presence also was a great point in his favor, for he certainly was a fine appearing young man. He had grown some inches during the last four years; his figure had developed, and he was now strong and stalwart; broad-shouldered and straight as an arrow, while one could not look into his frank, honest, intelligent face without at once becoming conscious that the character of the young orator was as manly, clean, and attractive as his person.
When the exercises were over nothing was to be seen of the squire, and Clifford made no attempt to find him. He judged that the man did not care to meet him, or he would not have sought so obscure a place in the auditorium. He felt sure that he had been impelled to come to Harvard only by motives of curiosity and criticism, therefore he immediately sought Maria, as soon as he was at liberty, and devoted himself exclusively to her entertainment.
He conducted her over the beautiful grounds, and through some of the dormitories, to let her see how college students lived, and finally took her to the University Museum to see the wonderful “glass flowers” and the valuable geological and zoological collections.
There was not time to show her all that he would have liked her to see, for she insisted that she must return on a certain train, for the next day was “churning day, and the cream must not be neglected.”