ly. "The way that you crawled up on him the last
hundred yards was thrilling. I shouted until I was hoarse. I never saw
any one fight more gamely. He's a faster man than you are, but you
almost beat him. I congratulate you--excuse the word, please--on your
guts."

Somehow Hugh couldn't stand Henley's enthusiasm. Suddenly he blurted out
the whole story, his drunkenness at the Prom, his split with Cynthia--he
did not mention the visit to Norry's room--his determination to redeem
himself, his feeling that if he had won that race he would at least have
justified his existence at the college, and, finally, his sense of
failure.

Henley listened sympathetically, amused and touched by the boy's naive
philosophy. He did not tell him that the race was relatively
unimportant--he was sure that Hugh would find that out for himself--but
he did bring him comfort.

"You did not fail, Hugh," he said gently; "you succeeded magnificently.
As for serving your college, you can always serve it best by being
yourself, being true to yourself, I mean, and that means being the very
fine gentleman that you are." He paused a minute, aware that he must be
less personal; Hugh was red to the hair and gazing unhappily at the
floor.

"You must read Browning," he went on, "and learn about his
success-in-failure philosophy. He maintains that it is better to strive
for a million and miss it than to strive for a hundred and get it. 'A
man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?' He says it
in a dozen different ways. It's the man who tries bravely for something
beyond his power that gets somewhere, the man who really succeeds. Well,
you tried for something beyond your power--to beat Calvert, a really
great runner. You tried to your utmost; therefore, you succeeded. I
admire your sense of failure; it means that you recognize an ideal. But
I think that you succeeded. You may not have quite justified yourself to
yourself, but you have proved capable of enduring a hard test bravely.
You have no reason to be depressed, no reason to be ashamed."

They talked for a long time, and finally Henley confessed that he
thought Cynthia had been wise in taking herself out of Hugh's life.

"I can see," he said, "that you aren't telling me quite all the story. I
don't want you to, either. I judge, however, from what you have said
that you went somewhere with her and that only complete drunkenness
saved you from disgracing both yourself and her. You ne