. It not only
inclines a young man to pneumonia and infantile paralysis, but to
all forms of lung trouble, to which you are particularly
inclined. You cannot experiment with your health. I have found
that out. I will not make myself ridiculous as some mothers no
doubt do, by insisting that you wear overshoes, though I remember
one Christmas you wore them around constantly without a single
buckle latched, making such a curious swishing sound, and you
refused to buckle them because it was not the thing to do. The
very next Christmas you would not wear even rubbers, though I
begged you. You are nearly twenty years old now, dear, and I
can't be with you constantly to find whether you are doing the
sensible thing.

"This has been a very _practical_ letter. I warned you in my last
that the lack of money to do the things one wants to makes one
quite prosy and domestic, but there is still plenty for
everything if we are not too extravagant. Take care of yourself,
my dear boy, and do try to write at least _once_ a week, because I
imagine all sorts of horrible things if I don't hear from you.
Affectionately, MOTHER."

*****

FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE TERM "PERSONAGE"

Monsignor Darcy invited Amory up to the Stuart palace on the Hudson for
a week at Christmas, and they had enormous conversations around the open
fire. Monsignor was growing a trifle stouter and his personality had
expanded even with that, and Amory felt both rest and security in
sinking into a squat, cushioned chair and joining him in the middle-aged
sanity of a cigar.

"I've felt like leaving college, Monsignor."

"Why?"

"All my career's gone up in smoke; you think it's petty and all that,
but--"

"Not at all petty. I think it's most important. I want to hear the whole
thing. Everything you've been doing since I saw you last."

Amory talked; he went thoroughly into the destruction of his egotistic
highways, and in a half-hour the listless quality had left his voice.

"What would you do if you left college?" asked Monsignor.

"Don't know. I'd like to travel, but of course this tiresome war
prevents that. Anyways, mother would hate not having me graduate. I'm
just at sea. Kerry Holiday wants me to go over with him and join the
Lafayette Esquadrille."

"You know you wouldn't like to go."

"Sometimes I would--to-night I'd go in a second."

"Well, you'd have to be very much mor