“If he knew the truth, he would either remove me from college or cut my allowance, and I should not be pleased with either,” he wrote. He was posing at Yale as a young man of unbounded wealth, and spending money freely, and his father paid the bills without a protest, rather proud than otherwise that they were so large, so long as Herbert was involved in no disgrace. It was his son, and he was glad to have him hand in glove with the high bucks, he said, and glad he was seeing the world. He managed to see a good deal of it in one way and another, and at the close of his first year came home, with a great sense of his own importance, and a still greater sense of the dullness of Merivale. “A one-horse town every way, and a century behind the times, with nothing going on—nothing to interest a fellow. Everybody at work as if his life depended upon the amount accomplished from sunrise to sunset. Nobody with any leisure—no ball-game, no hops, no anything!” he said to Louie, who did not think him improved by his first year in Yale, and resented his criticisms upon the town generally and her father in particular, because he had refused to send her to a school in New York, where Herbert could see her often and could occasionally show her to his classmates. All this and much more he had written to Louie, who spoke to her father of New York, and expressed a desire to go there. After some inquiries with regard to different schools, Mr. Grey said to her, “Which do you care for most, a thorough education, or knowing how to walk and stand and sit and enter a room?” Louie laughed, and replied that she would like both—the accomplishments and a thorough education. “I think, then, Bryn Mawr is the place, rather than a large city, where there are so many attractions and distractions. They turn out splendid scholars there.” For a moment Louie’s brow was puckered with a frown. New York represented to her everything that was desirable. But with her usual docility she yielded to her father’s judgment, and Bryn Mawr was decided upon greatly to the disgust of Herbert, who said several things not very complimentary to that institution as compared with the New York school which he had in mind. “Why, if you take the whole course at Bryn Mawr you will be an old maid before you get through, with your head crammed full of musty stuff, which, as my wife, will be of no earthly use to you,” he said.