Sylvia paused for a while. “I suppose it was a mistake all through,” she said, “but I was ignorant when I started, and since then I’ve been dragged along. Mr. van Tuiver has kept at me to tell him why I didn’t like him—and I’ve told him, that’s about all. I thought that your friend Mr. Firmin was one who’d do the same.” “He’s that, all right,” laughed Frank. There was a pause, then suddenly Sylvia exclaimed, “By the way, there’s something I meant to ask you. Is it true that Mr. Firmin’s father is a butler?” “It is, Sylvia.” “And did you know that when you introduced him to me?” It was Frank’s turn to counter. “Would you be very angry if I said I did?” “Why—not angry, Frank. But you must realize that it was a new experience.” “Did you find him ill-bred?” “Why, no—not that; but——” “I thought you might as well see all sides of college life. I knew you’d meet the club-men. And there’s a particular reason why you’ll have to be nice to Tom—he wants to make me president of the class just now.” “President of the class!” “Yes. Politics, you see!” “But,” she exclaimed, “why haven’t you told me about it?” “I didn’t know until yesterday. Things have been shaping themselves. You see, the feeling in the ‘Yard’ has grown more bitter, and yesterday a committee came to me and asked if I’d stand against Shackleford, who’s been picked by the Auburn Street crowd, and was expected to go in without opposition. I said I’d have to think it over. I might accept the position if I was elected, but of course, I wouldn’t do any wire-pulling—wouldn’t seek any man’s vote. They said that was all they wanted. But I don’t know; it’s a difficult question for me.” “But why?” “Well, you see, they’ll rake up the story of my father.” Sylvia gave a cry of horror. “Frank!” “If there’s a contest, it’ll be war and no quarter.” “But would they do such a thing as that?” “They would do it,” said Frank, grimly. “So my first impulse was to refuse. But I rather thought you’d want me to run. For you see, I’ll have that old scandal all my life, whatever I try to do; and I suppose you won’t let me keep out of everything.” “But, Frank, how will they know about your father?” “Lord, Sylvia, don’t you suppose with all the social climbing there is in this place, they’ve had that morsel long ago? There are fellows here from the South—your cousin, for one. It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m a nobody; but if I set out to beat the ‘Gold Coast crowd’—then you’d see!” It was amusing to Frank to see how her eyes blazed. “Oh, I ought to stay to help you!” she exclaimed. “If it only weren’t for father!” “Don’t worry, Sylvia. I wouldn’t let you stay for anything. I don’t want you mixed up in such affairs.” “But, Frank, think what it would mean! What a blow to the system you hate! And I could pull you through—you needn’t laugh, I really could! There are so many men I could manage!”