gestions for walks and lunches; he had also free time to make his suggestions operative. But Cope, though frequently seen in active movement on the campus and through the town, gave little heed to either of his elderly friends. He met them both, in High Street, on different occasions, and thanked and smiled and promised—and kept away. He was doubtless absorbed in his special work, in the details of the closing year. He may have thought (as young men have been known to think) that, in accepting their invitations, he had done enough for them already. He had shown his good will on several occasions; let that suffice. Or he may have thought (as young men have been found capable of thinking) not at all: other concerns, more pressing and more contemporaneous, may have crowded them out of his mind altogether.
"I wonder if it's sensitiveness?" asked Randolph of Foster. "His chum didn't go away in the best of good odor. . . ."
"Settle it for yourself," returned Foster brusquely. "And recall that you have an office—and might have office-hours. Still, if you insist on asking me——"
"I don't. But you may speak, if you like."
"And if you will consent to be fobbed off with a short-measure answer——"
"That's right. Don't say all you think."
"Then I would put it somewhere between indifference and ingratitude. Nearer the latter. We know the young."
"I don't feel that I've done so very much for him," said Randolph, rather colorlessly.
