nd its alluring reputation as the
pleasantest country club in America. Dwarfed by the menacing college
exams, Amory's school days drifted into the past. Years afterward, when
he went back to St. Regis', he seemed to have forgotten the successes
of sixth-form year, and to be able to picture himself only as the
unadjustable boy who had hurried down corridors, jeered at by his rabid
contemporaries mad with common sense.

CHAPTER 2. Spires and Gargoyles

At first Amory noticed only the wealth of sunshine creeping across the
long, green swards, dancing on the leaded window-panes, and swimming
around the tops of spires and towers and battlemented walls.
Gradually he realized that he was really walking up University Place,
self-conscious about his suitcase, developing a new tendency to glare
straight ahead when he passed any one. Several times he could have sworn
that men turned to look at him critically. He wondered vaguely if there
was something the matter with his clothes, and wished he had shaved
that morning on the train. He felt unnecessarily stiff and awkward
among these white-flannelled, bareheaded youths, who must be juniors and
seniors, judging from the savoir faire with which they strolled.

He found that 12 University Place was a large, dilapidated mansion, at
present apparently uninhabited, though he knew it housed usually a dozen
freshmen. After a hurried skirmish with his landlady he sallied out on
a tour of exploration, but he had gone scarcely a block when he became
horribly conscious that he must be the only man in town who was wearing
a hat. He returned hurriedly to 12 University, left his derby,
and, emerging bareheaded, loitered down Nassau Street, stopping to
investigate a display of athletic photographs in a store window,
including a large one of Allenby, the football captain, and next
attracted by the sign "Jigger Shop" over a confectionary window. This
sounded familiar, so he sauntered in and took a seat on a high stool.

"Chocolate sundae," he told a colored person.

"Double chocolate jiggah? Anything else?"

"Why--yes."

"Bacon bun?"

"Why--yes."

He munched four of these, finding them of pleasing savor, and then
consumed another double-chocolate jigger before ease descended upon him.
After a cursory inspection of the pillow-cases, leather pennants, and
Gibson Girls that lined the walls, he left, and continued along Nassau
Street with his hands in his pockets. Gradually he was learni