words on such a silly thing.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Ellen. I really didn't understand."

And she went up to bed, thinking only of Falloden; while Alice followed
her, her small face pinched and weary, her girlish mind full of pain.



CHAPTER IV

On the day after the Vice-Chancellor's party, Falloden, after a somewhat
slack morning's work, lunched in college with Meyrick. After hall, the
quadrangle was filled with strolling men, hatless and smoking,
discussing the chances of the Eights, the last debate at the Union, and
the prospects of individual men in the schools.

Presently the sound of a piano was heard from the open windows of a room
on the first floor.

"Great Scott!" said Falloden irritably to Meyrick, with whom he was
walking arm in arm, "what a noise that fellow Radowitz makes! Why should
we have to listen to him? He behaves as though the whole college
belonged to him. We can't hear ourselves speak."

"Treat him like a barrel-organ and remove him!" said Meyrick, laughing.
He was a light-hearted, easy-going youth, a "fresher" in his first
summer term, devoted to Falloden, whose physical and intellectual powers
seemed to him amazing.