design. But despite the conglomerate and sometimes absurd
architecture--a Doric temple neighbored a Byzantine mosque--the campus
was beautiful. Lawns, often terraced, stretched everywhere, and the
great elms lent a dignity to Sanford College that no architect, however
stupid, could quite efface.

This first day of the new college year was glorious in the golden haze
of Indian summer. The lake was silver blue, the long reflections of the
trees twisting and bending as a soft breeze ruffled the surface into
tiny waves. The hills already brilliant with color--scarlet, burnt
orange, mauve, and purple--flamed up to meet the clear blue sky; the
elms softly rustled their drying leaves; the white houses of the village
retreated coyly behind maples and firs and elms: everywhere there was
peace, the peace that comes with strength that has been stronger than
time.

As Hugh Carver hastened up the hill from the station, his two suit-cases
banged his legs and tripped him. He could hardly wait to reach the
campus. The journey had been intolerably long--Haydensville was more
than three hundred miles from Merrytown, his home--and he was wild to
find his room in Surrey Hall. He wondered how he would like his
room-mate, Peters.... What's his name? Oh, yes, Carl.... The registrar
had written that Peters had gone to Kane School.... Must be pretty fine.
Ought to be first-class to room with.... Hugh hoped that Peters wouldn't
think that he was too country....

Hugh was a slender lad who looked considerably less than his eighteen
years. A gray cap concealed his sandy brown hair, which he parted on the
side and which curled despite all his brushing. His crystalline blue
eyes, his small, neatly carved nose, his sensitive mouth that hid a shy