Randolph, still taking his business easily, had suggestions 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. "You were inclined to." "H'm, yes. I could have opened up avenues that would have made his year here a very different thing. Perhaps he didn't realize what I could do. And perhaps he found me too old." "Shall you attend the convocation?" "I go usually. I'll push him off from shore and waft him good-bye." "Good-bye? Good riddance!" "You never liked him." "I never did. If he leaves town without showing up here, no loss." "Medora expects him here?" "I think so." Randolph descended to the lower floor. Mrs. Phillips was alone, seated behind a tea-service that steamed with expectation. "Going?" she asked. "Going. Joe is grouchy and violent today. And he keeps on reminding me that I have an office." Medora glanced at the clock. Expectation seemed to be simmering down. "Stay a few moments if you like. Forget the office a little longer. I'll make some fresh." "Not all these preparations for me?" "Well, they're here. Take advantage." "You're all alone?" "Alone. The house is empty." Medora tried to look as if at the heart of a tremendous vacuum. "I can't fill it." "You can fill fifteen minutes." "Oh, if you're going to confound time and space...!" He sat down receptively. Medora rang a bell and harried Helga a little. She glanced at Randolph. He sat there as if less to fill than to be filled. "Say something," she said. "Are you going to the convocation?" "No." He sat silent. "Does that exhaust the subjects of interest?" she asked.