The other men, for the most part, disregarded me. A classmate--one of the pledged freshmen--spoke to me now and then, but loftily and as if it were an effort of hospitality. As I felt the coldness increase, I grew glum and silent. My new-found confidence oozed out into bewilderment. What had I done? What had I said to insult them all, to hurt my chances of election to their midst? I could not figure it out. They were courteous enough. They were what they claimed to be: a crowd of young gentlemen. But I could sense, electric in the air, the disapproval and amusement which they felt. And after lunch was over, I did not join the others in the big, leather-walled smoking room. I made a mumbled apology and went. They accepted it blandly, smiling, smirking a little, and let me go. I had just gone down the steps and towards the campus when the near-sighted junior came after me, redder than ever of face, his eyes, blinking very hard. He hurried up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. "See here, 'fresh,'" he said thickly, "I owe you an explanation. I don't want the other fellows to see me giving it to you. Come on, walk along with me." At the corner, out of range of the windows of his fraternity house, he began his hurried, jumbling speech. "I could see," he said, "how uncomfortable they made you. They tried to be decent, honestly they did. But they--they've never had--never had to entertain a--one of your sort before, don't you see? We--we don't ever take--well, it's all my fault. I'm so darn near-sighted that I didn't realize. I couldn't see--I didn't know--" He could not go on, for his dull, honest face was fearfully distressed. "What didn't you know?" I demanded. "That you were--now, don't get sore, because I like Jews as much as any folks--and I can't see why we don't take them in our fraternity. Only--" "Only you didn't realize I was a Jew," I said hotly. "That's it--I'm so near-sighted that I--" I did not wait for his stammered finish. I went swiftly away and home, my heart well-nigh bursting. IX MY AUNT AND I "It isn't true," snapped my aunt, when I told her of what had happened at the fraternity house. "I can't imagine that young gentlemen of such an aristocratic set could act so meanly. You must have done something wrong. You must have insulted them personally, yourself. I'll wager, you're to blame--not they." I was too sickened by it all to protest. I repeated to her slowly the words of apology which the near-sighted junior had spoken to me at our parting, and, when they did not convince her, gave up the task and went to bed without any supper. I was old enough to have cured myself of the habit of tears--though, as a matter of fact, no men ever do quite want to cure themselves of it--but I remember that my pillow was damp the next morning, and the grey, foggy sky, through the window, seemed in sad tune with my spirits.