of God and man—we forget everything but athletic victories, long discussions with friends, campus sings, fraternity life, moonlight on the campus, and everything that is romantic. The sting dies, and the beauty remains.
“Why do men give large sums of money to their colleges when asked? Because they want to help society? Not at all. The average man does n’t even take that into consideration. He gives the money because he loves his alma mater, because he has beautiful and tender memories of her. No, colleges are far from perfect, tragically far from it, but any institution that commands loyalty and love as colleges do cannot be wholly imperfect. There is a virtue in a college that un¬ inspired administrative officers, stupid professors, and alumni with false ideals cannot kill. At times I tremble for Sanford College; there are times when I swear at it, but I never cease to love it.”
“If you feel that way about college, why did you say those things to us two years ago?” Hugh asked.
“Because they were true, all true. I was talking about the undergraduates then, and I could have said much more cutting things and still been on the safe side of the truth. There is, however, another side, and that is what I am trying to give you now —rather incoherently, I know.”
Hugh thought of Cynthia. “I suppose all that you say is true,” he admitted dubiously, “but I can’t
