AT the gate of the New Race University and Masculine Beauty Preserve the pretty gate-keeper on duty looked at Langdon, then at his fair captor, in unfeigned astonishment. "Why, Ethra!" she said, "is _that_ all you've brought home?" "Did you think I was going to net a dozen?" asked Ethra Leslie, warmly. "Please unlock the gate. Mr. Langdon is tired and hungry, and I want the Regents to finish with him quickly so that he can have some luncheon." The gate-keeper, a distractingly pretty red-haired girl, regarded Langdon with dubious hazel eyes. "He'll never pass the examination," she whispered to Ethra. "What on earth are you thinking of?" "What are _you_ thinking of, Marcella? You must be perfectly blind not to see that he complies with every possible requisite! The Regents' inspection is bound to be only a brief formality. Be good enough to unbar the gates." Marcella slowly drew the massive bolts; hostile criticism was in the gaze with which she swept Langdon. "Well, of all the insignificant looking young men," she murmured to herself as Ethra and her acquisition walked away along the path, side by side. [Illustration] [Illustration] IX THE collective and individual charms of the Board of Regents so utterly over-powered Langdon that he scarcely realised what was happening to him. First, at their request, he sat cross-legged on the ground; and they walked round and round him, inspecting him. Under such conditions no man could be at his best; there was a silly expression on his otherwise attractive face, which, as their attitude toward him seemed to waver between indifference and disapproval, became unconsciously appealing. "Kindly rise, Mr. Langdon," said Miss Challis, chairman of the board. Langdon got up, and his ears turned red with a sudden and burning self-consciousness. "Please walk past us two or three times, varying your speed." He walked in the various styles to which he had been accustomed, changing speed at intervals and running the entire gamut between a graceful boulevard saunter and a lost-dog sprint. "Now," said the beautiful chairman, "be good enough to run past us several times." He complied and they studied his kangaroo-like action. Miss Vining even bent over and felt of his ankles doubtfully, and to his vivid confusion Miss Darrell strolled up, made him sit down on a log, placed one soft, white finger on his mouth, and, opening it coolly, examined the interior. Then they drew together, consulting in whispers, then Miss Challis came with a stethoscope and listened to his pneumatic machinery, while Miss Vining carelessly pinched his biceps and tried his reflexes. After which Miss Darrell pushed a thermometer into his mouth, measured his pulses and blood pressure, tested his sight and hearing and his sense of smell. The latter was intensely keen, as he was very hungry.