“Yes, sir, I like Phil,” answered Everett decisively. “All right. Why is it you see so little of him then?” “Well, we don’t meet very often, sir, and he seems rather stand-offish; doesn’t appear to want to chum.” “Of course he doesn’t. He’s a Southerner. I’ve met a good many of them. They’re as proud as turkey cocks. If his people have lost their money, why, he has got it into his head, I daresay, that you don’t care to know him. Now don’t let him think that, Everett. If there’s anything on God’s green earth I hate it’s that sort of thing. Don’t be a money-snob, my boy.” “I don’t think I am, sir. It hadn’t occurred to me that Phil could imagine anything of the sort.” “I don’t say that you are, Everett; but don’t let it look that way. Now you look him up when you go back Monday and don’t let him put you off; give him to understand that it doesn’t make a continental bit of difference to you whether there’s been an auction at the old homestead or not. Get him in here to dinner with you. If he’s down on his luck, cheer him up. Take him into Parker’s some evening and put some cocktails where they’ll do the most good; you may charge it to me.” “All right, sir. But I don’t believe he’d go to dinner, sir; he’s awfully shy on letting you do things for him.” “Is, eh? A regular dyed-in-the-wool Southerner, I guess. Well, you do the best you can, Everett. There have been four generations of Kingsfords at Harvard so far, and they’ve all acted like gentlemen. You look sharp, sir, and see that the rule isn’t broken. I’ll forgive you anything and pay your bills like a little tin bank, just so long as you don’t forget what your last name is. If you ever do that, look out for squalls, my son!” The result of this conversation, which took place the first week in February, was that Everett became a frequent visitor at the corner room in Thayer. Phillip begged off from Everett’s invitation to dinner, not because, now that he had discovered that he was still wanted, he did not wish to go, but because he had sold his very expensive dress suit for half what he had paid for it, and it did not occur to him to borrow one. He didn’t explain this to Everett, however, but pleaded study, an excuse which his friend accepted politely but did not believe in. Perhaps Everett suspected the true reason, for a few days later he asked Phillip to come to his rooms on a certain Thursday afternoon. “My mother and Betty and Miss Wayland are coming out to tea,” he explained, “and going to vespers afterward. I’ll let you off on vespers if you insist, but I would like you to help me hand the sandwiches around. Porter is trying for the nine and has got to be in the cage that afternoon with the rest of the animals.” (Porter was Everett’s roommate.) “Say you’ll come, like a good chap.” “I’ll be mighty glad to,” answered Phillip. “Only――you don’t reckon your――mother thinks I’m impolite for not accepting that invitation to dinner?”