he have got behind the scenes.
Though her knowledge was not based strictly on the text-book, her
reputation in the class was good, and, as Patty admitted with a sigh,
"It's a great strain on the imagination to keep up a reputation in
philosophy."

It had been established, indeed, as far back as her sophomore year, when
the psychology class was awed into silence by its first introduction to
the abstractions of science, and Patty alone had dared to lift her
voice. The professor, one morning, had been placidly lecturing along on
the subject of sensation, and in the course of the lecture had remarked:
"It is probable that the individual experiences all the primary
sensations during the first few months of infancy, and that in after
life there is no such thing as a new sensation."

"Professor Cairnsley," Patty piped up, "did you ever shoot the chutes?"

The ice was broken at last, and the class felt at home, even in the
somewhat deep waters of philosophy; and Patty, however undeservedly, had
gained the credit of having a deeper insight than most into matters
psychical.

And so into her senior year, when she entered upon the study of ethics,
she carried along an unearned and fragile reputation, built upon
subterfuges and likely to crumble at the slightest touch. She had
maintained it very creditably up to the Christmas vacation, and had
argued upon the ultimate ground of moral obligation and the origin of
conscience quite as intelligently as though she had previously read what
the text-book had to say on the subject. But when they had commenced the
study of specific theologies, based upon definite historical facts,
Patty found her imagination of little use, and on several occasions it
had been purely good luck that had saved her from exposure. Once the
bell had rung at an opportune moment, and twice she had been able to
avert a direct answer by leading the discussion into side issues. She
realized, however, that fortune would not always favor her, and as the
professor usually forgot to call the roll, she formed the nefarious
practice of cutting class when she did not have her lesson.

For a week or so in particular, her pressure of work in other directions
(not all of them scholastic) had prevented her from devoting her usual
amount of energy to the task of maintaining her philosophy reputation,
and she had, without conscience, cut ethics several days in succession,
and had failed to comment upon the fact to the profess