“I said good-night at nine o’clock and came back to my room. North said I mustn’t go so early, but I noticed that Meadowcamp was nodding and reckoned he wanted to get to bed. Maid had a fine time to-day when we went to walk and chased sparrows and things all the time. Cambridge is beautiful now and the leaves are beginning to fall. I wish you and Margey could see how lovely it is. But I get kind of homesick sometimes for you all and Elaine. Please tell Bob to ride Ruby twice a week and to look after her feet well. I will write again soon. With heaps of love, “PHIL.” Phillip found his days fully occupied. He attended chapel every morning, at first from a sense of duty, but afterward because he liked it and felt somehow better prepared for what the day was to bring. One morning he encountered Guy Bassett on the steps and gave voice to the surprise he looked: “Good-morning; I didn’t expect――――” He paused confusedly. Guy smiled. “Didn’t expect to see me here?” he asked. “I fear you’re a Pharisee, Ryerson. I’m usually at prayers. I find it rather interesting; not exciting, you understand, but mildly interesting. And then, I think I’m better for it all the rest of the day.” “Yes,” said Phillip, “so do I.” “I’ve paced it off and have found that the distance from my room to chapel and from chapel to my boarding house is just over the half-mile. Half a mile is about the proper distance for a morning walk. I tried going to the Common and back at first, but as that involved viewing that extremely hideous soldiers’ monument I had to give it up. After that the chapel was really the only objective point that was the right distance. Besides, I fancy it lends one a certain amount of distinction.” When Phillip, in the course of a conversation with Chester, incidentally mentioned having been to morning prayers, the latter was genuinely astonished. “But you have to get up so early!” he exclaimed. “And then I should think you’d feel frightfully lonely.” “Well, seeing that the place is generally pretty well filled――――” “Really? I shall have to try it some morning when I can’t sleep.” “Bloody Monday Night” was a dire disappointment to Phillip. After marching about the yard arm in arm with Chester and Guy for the better part of half an hour, cheering defiantly for his class, the subsequent shoving and jostling, in which the most glorious thing that befell him was the loss of his cap, was distinctly unsatisfying. He went home feeling rather aggrieved, in the mood of one who has seen an ideal shattered.