What an amazing adventure this had been! Quincy had found strange opinions in books; but to meet them vitally, poignantly in life, to hear them imparted, not to the world, but to him, and to him, not as the humble listener he would willingly have been, but as the equal, the critic, the fellow-thinker! In these things that had actually come to pass should have lain almost ecstasy to Quincy. Yet, he was bewildered at not being more bewildered by them. He could not understand how he was managing, in their light, to contain himself. For it dawned on him that he was taking all these wonders quite calmly, almost as matters-of-course; as if their like had occurred even in fancy, many times before. It seemed they should have dazzled him, flung him into some land where such things belong. And instead, here he was solidly in his seat, while the train rushed on, in full possession of his nature, sturdily, serenely eased with life. Quincy found himself watching the shoulders, the necks, the heads of two young men who were several seats in front of him. From the tilt of their hats, the cool assurance of their nods, he knew them as upperclassmen. They fascinated him, somehow. They seemed very remote from Professor Deering. They seemed more the expected thing. And always, the expected thing tended to unnerve him, even as the sudden flash of wonder gave him a grip on the realities. The forward door opened suddenly. There was the inrush of air, the clatter of pounding wheels, the swift slam as the door fell to. Before it, stood a tall, svelte fellow, exuding a smooth confidence. He espied the two men whom Quincy had been watching. Hands went up; names were called warmly. He rushed to them. And with affectionate hand-shakes and stout slaps on shoulders, they gave greeting after the summer’s separation. Then, they began to talk. The svelte newcomer leaned over from the aisle and words flew fast. Evidently, it was the man by the window for whom his words were especially intended. This continued for some time, and then the man directly below him got up. The newcomer protested suavely. Quincy marvelled at such affection and ceremonious courtesy. The man who had arisen evidently assured the other that he would gladly and easily find another seat so that the two might with more comfort impart their urgent news. He stepped away. The newcomer, as quickly and utterfully forgetful as he had been solicitous, slipped into the seat. And he who had given it up came down the aisle and placed himself with Quincy. They examined each other; Quincy surreptitiously, the upperclassman with a bland impudence. Quincy was thoroughly ill at ease. He turned his face full on the window. And then he heard the man’s voice coming toward him. He was a rather stout, florid fellow with fat lips and eyes that would have been a merry blue had they not turned so hard. “Goin’ up, first time?” he asked. “Yes,” said Quincy. “Where do you come from?” “New York.”