ard forms of worship; and he found
the change grateful. There was novelty and charm in a service attended
wholly by men, and in the music, as mediaeval in character as the
architecture of the Hall itself. Like most of his contemporaries,
Leigh could by no means have formulated his religious beliefs, but in
all the chaos of modern thought he still retained a certain piety, in
the old Roman sense of the word, a loyalty to the traditions of his
fathers which he would never have dignified by the name of faith.

He was happily unconscious of the fact that the eyes of many of the
students were fixed upon him with keen observation. The self-contained
young professor was as much an unknown quantity as any he asked them to
find in the recitation-room. They were baffled by the impersonal
attitude he had brought from the university, where the individual
counted for little, and were inclined to attribute it to a disposition
to be severe in his marking.

It chanced that this morning he was free from recitations, but though
his time was his own, he had no definite plan with which to fill it.
After lingering in his room for some minutes, he descended once more to
the walk, finding relief in simulating a purpose by definiteness of
action. Instead of following the line of the building northward, he
struck out directly across the plateau, past the flagstaff and the
great bronze statue of the bishop, and descended the slope along a path
that marked the future grand approach.

As he recalled the bishop's elaborate description, he turned and gazed
at the towers which loomed ghost-like beyond the ridge. He was now in
the midst of the wide field from which he had heard the tinkle of
cow-bells on the morning of his arrival. The place was deserted, save
for his own presence. The grass was heavy with clinging globules of
moisture, and every head of goldenrod seemed encrusted with glimmering
pearls. Everywhere there was a curious and oppressive silence, as if
the world were deprived not only of light, but also of life. The great
towers appeared unsubstantial, carved from blocks of mist only a degree
thicker than that which spread about him. He indulged the odd fancy
that a rising wind might sweep the whole away, leaving only a bare
hilltop beneath the clearing sky.

The clang of a gong from the car barn beyond came like a reminder of
his purpose, a summons to make a tentative effort, at least, to achieve
it. So he turned resolutel