It occurred to him to wonder if there would be any such sorrow and
emptiness of life for any one if he were gone. The fellows would feel
badly, of course. There would be speeches and resolutions, a lot of
black drapery, and all that sort of thing in college, but what did that
amount to? His father? Oh yes, of course he would feel it some, but he
had been separated from his father for years, except for brief visits in
vacations. His father had married a young wife and there were three
young children. No, his father would not miss him much!

He swung off the car in front of the university and entered the
dormitory at last, too engrossed in his strange new thoughts to remember
that he had had no supper.

"Hello, Court! Where the deuce have you been? We've looked everywhere
for you. You didn't come to the dining-hall! What's wrong with you? Come
in here!"

It was Tennelly who hauled him into Bill Ward's room and thumped him
into a big leather study-chair.

"Why, man, you're all in! Give an account of yourself!" he said, tossing
his hat over to Bill Ward, and pulling away at his mackinaw.

"P'raps he's in love!" suggested Pat from the couch where he was puffing
away at his pipe.

"P'raps he's flunked his Greek exam.," suggested Bill Ward, with a grin.

"He looks as if he'd seen a ghost!" said Tennelly, eying him critically.