into the obscurity, and through the open windows he caught glimpses of
decorations on the walls, the flags and signs and photographs which
everywhere represent the artistic standards of the average
undergraduate.

But a compensating surprise was presently in store. As he passed the
tower, he heard the deep notes of a pipe organ; the open diapason and
flutes of the great, the reeds of the swell, piled one upon another in
a splendid harmony. He looked up and saw the lengthened windows that
indicated the location of the chapel, which apparently extended the
full height of the building. The musician within added a two-foot
stop, the final needed element of brilliancy, crowning the edifice of
sound his fingers had reared, so that now the music seemed to burst
through the half-open windows and to shake the vines upon the wall.
Lover of music as he was, this unexpected and triumphant symphony made
a peculiar appeal to Leigh's imagination. Through it, as through a
golden mist, he saw the drama of life sublimated, himself an actor of
dignity and worth; and a few moments later he entered the president's
office with a poise in which there remained no trace of anxious
conjecture.

A figure rose to greet him as he entered, and though he was himself a
tall man, the other loomed above him in the comparative twilight of the
room, until he seemed to assume colossal proportions. Then Leigh
realized that it was not the height of the man, but his bearing, that
gave such significance to the inch or two between them. His grey hair
alone suggested years; he held his shoulders like a man of forty. He
removed his glasses deliberately, put them on the pile of papers beside
him, and stood waiting. There was a courteous enquiry in his very
attitude, although as yet he spoke no word. His head was tilted