going to become of her? With this thought he again grew angry with himself. Why was it that over all his feelings triumphed one of relief? He apparently felt no chagrin at having counted for so little in Miss Van Clees's affections. If she wished to be the wife of another man, he hoped they would be happy; but what was he to do? Yes, he was free to think of some one else without disloyalty! But would not all his imaginings turn into vanity? Was it not better for him to live and enjoy life, to think of other things; to take just what might come along! An impulse seized him to return to University Hall, but at this moment some one touched him on the shoulder.
"Hullo, it's Hart. Well met, by Jove. Congratulate you on the game you played to-day."
The speaker was Danforth, the bearded senior. "Let me present Mr. Sprague," he said. "Hollingsworth, you know."
Hart shook hands with a tall, unhealthy looking young man, and nodded to Hollingsworth who replied in the same way.
"I say," said Danforth, "come up to my room and have a chat."
