was
the traditional thing to do to the lady one loved. To be sure, the very
touch of her hand was galvanic. Paradoxically, I saw the human side of
her, the yielding gentleness that always amazed me, yet I never overcame
my awe of the divine; she was a being sacrosanct. Whether this idealism
were innate or the result of such romances as I had read I cannot say....
I got, indeed, an avowal of a sort. The weekly dancing classes having
begun again, on one occasion when she had waltzed twice with Gene
Hollister I protested.

"Don't be silly, Hugh," she whispered. "Of course I like you better than
anyone else--you ought to know that."

We never got to the word "love," but we knew the feeling.

One cloud alone flung its shadow across these idyllic days. Before I was
fully aware of it I had drawn very near to the first great junction-point
of my life, my graduation from Densmore Academy. We were to "change
cars," in the language of Principal Haime. Well enough for the fortunate
ones who were to continue the academic journey, which implied a
postponement of the serious business of life; but month after month of
the last term had passed without a hint from my father that I was to
change cars. Again and again I almost succeeded in screwing up my courage
to the point of mentioning college to him,--never quite; his manner,
though kind and calm, somehow strengthened my suspicion that I had been
judged and found wanting, and doomed to "business": galley slavery, I
deemed it, humdrum, prosaic, degrading! When I thought of it at night I
experienced almost a frenzy of self-pity. My father couldn't intend to do
that, just because my monthly reports hadn't always been what he thought
they ought to be! Gene Hollister's were no better, if as good, and he was
going to Princeton. Was I, Hugh Paret, to be denied the distinction of
being a college man, the delights of university existence, cruelly
separated and set apart from my friends whom I loved! held up to the
world and especially to Nancy Willett as good for nothing else! The
thought was unbearable. Characteristically, I hoped against hope.

I have mentioned garden parties. One of our annual institutions was Mrs.
Willett's children's party in May; for the Willett house had a garden
that covered almost a quarter of a block. Mrs. Willett loved children,
the greatest regret of her life being that providence had denied her a
large family. As far back as my memory goes she had been something