this
friendly creature know anything? If she did she would cease to be
amiable. His anger diminished as he saw the curiosity leave her face.

"An odd resemblance! Do you know, Mr. Morton, I rather think you're
bound to meet Lambert Planter anyway. I believe he's a very important
young man at Yale. You'll have to play football a little better than he
does. His sister and he are going to visit me for a few days before he
goes back to New Haven. Perhaps you'll see him then."

George resented the prospect. He got himself away.

"Squibs," he told her, "sees everything. If I loiter he finds out and
scolds."

He had an impression that she looked after him until he was out of
sight. Or was it the dog that still puzzled her? Something of her, at
least, accompanied him longer than that--her kindness, her tact in the
matter of the Planters. He would take very good care that he didn't meet
Lambert; the prospect of Sylvia's adjacence, however, filled him with a
disturbing excitement. He wanted to see her, but he felt it wouldn't be
safe to have her see him yet.

Her picture increased his excitement, filled him with a craving for her
physical presence. He desired to look at her, as he had looked at the
photograph, to see if he could tell himself under those conditions that
he hated her. Whether that was true or not, he was more determined than
ever to make his boasts good.

VI

The day of the immediate test approached and he found himself no longer
afraid of it. Even Bailly one early September evening abandoned
cynicism.

"You've every chance, Morton," he said, puffing at his pipe, "to enter
creditably. You may have a condition in French, but what of that? We'll
have if off by the divisionals. I'll admit you're far from a dunce.
During the next ten days we'll concentrate on the examination
idiosyncrasies of my revered colleagues."

The scholarship had, in fact, been won for George, but the necessary
work, removed from any suspicion of the servatorial, had not yet been
found. Bailly, although he plainly worried himself, told George not to
be impatient; then, just before the entrance examinations, the head
coach arrived and settled himself in Princeton. Self-assured young men
drifted to the field now every afternoon--"varsity men," the Rogers clan
whispered with awe. And there were last year's substitutes, and faithful
slaves of the scrub, over-anxious, pouring out to early practice,
grasping at one more chance. So far no