Sylvia thought that this was the point of approach to the real subject; but she said nothing, and Mrs. Winthrop veered off again. “I have always been especially interested in University life,” she said. “My father was a University professor, and I was brought up in a University town. After I was married and found that I had leisure and opportunity, I said to myself that it would be my task in life to do what I could to influence young men during their student years, by teaching them generous ideals, and above all by giving them a model of a dignified and gracious social life. It is in these years, you see, that the tastes of young men are formed; afterwards they go out to set an example to the rest of the world. More than any university, I think, Harvard is our source of culture and idealism; our crude Western colleges look to its graduates for teachers, and to its standards for their models. So you see it is really no little thing to feel that you are helping to guide and shape the social life of Harvard.” “I can understand that,” said Sylvia, much impressed. “You come from another part of our country,” continued Mrs. Winthrop—“a part which has its own lovely culture. Whether you have ever realized it consciously or not, I am sure that ideas such as these must have been often impressed upon you by your family.” “Yes,” said Sylvia, “my mother often talks of such things.” “I felt that, Sylvia, when I saw you. I said, ‘Here is an ally.’ You see, I must have help from the young people—especially from the girls, if I am to do anything with the men.” There was a solemn pause. “I hope I haven’t disappointed you too much,” said Sylvia at last. Mrs. Winthrop fixed upon her one of those intense gazes. “I’ve been perplexed,” she said. “You must understand, I can’t help hearing what’s going on. People come to ask me for advice, and I must give it. And I’ve felt that what I’ve learned made it really necessary for me to talk to you. I hope that you won’t mind, or think that I’m presuming.” “My dear Mrs. Winthrop,” said Sylvia, “please don’t apologize. I am glad to have your advice.” “I will speak frankly, then. As well as I can read the situation, you seem to have taken offense at the social system we have at Harvard. Is that true?” Sylvia thought. “Yes,” she said—“some parts of it have offended me.” “Can you explain, Sylvia?” “I don’t know that I can. It’s a thing that one feels. I have had a sense of something cruel about it.” “Something cruel? But can’t one feel that about any social system? Haven’t you classes at home? Don’t your people hold themselves above some others?” “Yes, but I don’t think they are so hard about it—so deliberate, so matter of fact.”