Letters reached him occasionally from Albert the freshman. They might well have come from Albert the sophomore. Raymond showed me one of them on an evening when I had called to see him in his new quarters. He was comfortable enough and snug. On the walls and shelves were books and pictures that I remembered seeing in his boyhood bedroom. "I like it here," he said emphatically. And in truth it was the den of a born bachelor--one who had discovered himself too late. Well, Raymond passed me Albert's letter. He showed it to me, not with pride, but (as was evident from the questioning eye he kept on my face) with a view to learning what I thought of it. He was asking a verdict, yet shrinking from it. Albert was rather cocky; also, rather restless--I wondered if he would last to _be_ a sophomore. And he displayed little of the consideration due a father. Clearly, Raymond, as a parent, had been weighed and found wanting. Albert's ideal stood high in another quarter, and his life's ambition might soon drive him in a direction the reverse of academic. "How does it strike you?" asked Raymond, as I sat mulling over Albert's sheets. I searched my mind for some non-committal response. "Well," Raymond burst out, "he needn't respect _me_ if he doesn't admire _him_!" II Albert's response to McComas at the horse-show had not been noticeably prompt or adroit, but he cast about manfully for words and presently was able to voice his appreciation of Althea's feat (as it was regarded) and to congratulate her upon it. Johnny McComas was not at all displeased. Albert had not been light-handed and graceful, but he developed (under this sudden stress) a sturdy, downright mode of speech which showed sincerity if not dexterity. The square-standing, straight-speaking farm-lad--straight-speaking, if none too ready--was sounding an atavistic note caught from his great-grandfather back in York State. "Stuff in him!" commented Johnny. "It's a wonder, but there is. Must be his mother." Albert made no particular impression, however, on Althea herself. A dozen other young fellows had been more demonstrative and more fluent. He simply slid over the surface of her mind and fell away again. She had known him--intermittently--for years as a somewhat inexpressive boy; now, as a potential gallant, he was negligible, as compared with others. But Albert, speaking in a sense either specific or general, did not mean to remain negligible. He soon forgot most of the details of the day at the horse-show. He had hardly a greater affinity for sport than his father had had. He began his sophomore year with no interest in athletics. The compulsory gymnasium-work bored him. He made no single team--put forth not the least effort to make one. The football crowd, the baseball crowd, even the tennis crowd, gave him up and left him alone.