it, I felt--he would put his arm round me, for he always knew, and oh,
how strong and restful it was to lean against, so that one walked as
in an easy-chair.

It seems to me, remembering how I would walk thus by his side, looking
up shyly into his face, thinking how strong and good he was, feeling
so glad he liked me, I can understand a little how a woman loves. He
was so solid. With his arm round me, it was good to feel weak.

At first we were in the same class, the Lower Third. He had no
business there. He was head and shoulders taller than any of us and
years older. It was a disgrace to him that he was not in the Upper
Fourth. The Doctor would tell him so before us all twenty times a
week. Old Waterhouse (I call him "Old Waterhouse" because "Mister
Waterhouse, M.A.," would convey no meaning to me, and I should not
know about whom I was speaking) who cordially liked him, was honestly
grieved. We, his friends, though it was pleasant to have him among
us, suffered in our pride of him. The only person quite contented was
Dan himself. It was his way in all things. Others had their opinion
of what was good for him. He had his own, and his own was the only
opinion that ever influenced him. The Lower Third suited him. For
him personally the Upper Fourth had no attraction.

And even in the Lower Third he was always at the bottom. He preferred
it. He selected the seat and kept it, in spite of all allurements, in
spite of all reproaches. It was nearest to the door. It enabled him
to be first out and last in. Also it afforded a certain sense of
retirement. Its occupant, to an extent screened from observation,
became in the course of time almost forgotten. To Dan's philosophical
temperament its practical advantages outweighed all sentimental