He approached the scene where he was himself to be on trial in the
spirit of one who questioned, not his fitness for the place he was to
occupy, for of that he had no shadow of doubt, but the fitness of the
place for him. If he saw promotion, perhaps the presidency, within his
grasp, he might deem it worth his while to stay; if not, his
professorship should be a stepping-stone to something better. With the
history, the traditions, and the ideals of the Hall he was but slightly
acquainted; in fact, the institution existed for him at present only in
its relation to himself and his possible future.

And yet, beneath these thoughts of self ran a current of feeling or
impressions which never rose high enough in his consciousness to win
definite recognition. If his first view of the college was depressing
because of the failure of fruition its appearance suggested, he was not
utterly unappreciative of the pictorial effect: the splendid lines of
dignity and beauty; the soft brown colour of the stone, relieved by the
lighter tone of lintel and window-frame and sill; the dark green of the
ivy; the great, black shadow of the tower on the slated roof where
every jutting dormer window threw its lesser shade; the wide sky
beyond, of a blueness which an artist would have wished to paint.

From the meadow below the plateau came the tinkle of cow-bells, musical
in the distance; and this sound, combined with the note of a bird and
the voices of children from an unseen garden, produced an Arcadian
atmosphere which even the harsh gong of the returning electric car
could not dispel.

As he climbed higher, the houses fell away, disclosing the bare hilltop
over which the road seemed to dip down and disappear; and though he