tely divided
from what Old Planter had described as human beings. His exaltation
grew. For a long time he walked in an amicable companionship of broader
spaces and more arresting architecture than even Oakmont could boast;
and it occurred to him, if he should enter college, he would have as
much share in all this as the richest student; at Princeton he would
live in the Great House.

His mood altered as he returned to his small, scantily furnished room
whose very unloveliness outlined the difficulties that lay ahead.

He unpacked his suitcase and came upon Sylvia's photograph and her
broken riding crop. In the centre of the table, where he would work, he
placed the photograph with a piece of the crop on either side. Whenever
he was alone in the room those objects would be there, perpetual lashes
to ambition; whenever he went out he would lock them away.

How lovely and desirable she was! How hateful! How remote! Had ever a
man such a goal to strain for? He wanted only to start.

Immediately after breakfast the next morning he set forth. He had never
seen a town so curiously empty. There were no students, since it was the
long vacation, except a few backward men and doubtful candidates for
admission. He stared by daylight at the numerous buildings which were
more imposing now, more suggestive of learning, wealth, and breeding.
They seemed to say they had something for him if only he would fight
hard enough to receive it.

First of all, he had to find someone who knew the ropes. There must be
professors here, many men connected with this gigantic plant. On Nassau
Street he encountered a youth, a little younger than himself, who, with
a bored air, carried three books under his arm. George stopped him.

"I beg your pardon. Are you going here?"

The other looked him over as if suspecting a joke.

"Going where?" he asked, faintly.

George appraised the fine quality of the young man's clothing. He was
almost sorry he had spoken. The first thing he had to do was to overcome
a reluctance to speak to people who obviously already had much that he
was after.

"I mean," he explained, "are you going to this college?"

"The Lord," the young man answered, "and Squibs Bailly alone know. I'm
told I'm not very bright in the head."

George smiled.

"Then I guess you can help me out. I'm not either. I want to enter in
the fall, and I need a professor or something like that to teach me.
I'll pay."

The other nodded.

"You