In spite of the fact that nobody
ever mentioned his article to him after it appeared--full of typographical
errors which he thought intentional--he got a certain satisfaction from
believing that the citizens of Lincoln had meekly accepted the epithet
"coarse barbarians." "You see how it is," he said to me, "where there is
no chivalry, there is no amour propre." When I met him on his rounds now,
I thought he carried his head more disdainfully than ever, and strode up
the steps of front porches and rang doorbells with more assurance. He told
Lena he would never forget how I had stood by him when he was "under
fire."
All this time, of course, I was drifting. Lena had broken up my serious
mood. I was n't interested in my classes. I played with Lena and Prince, I
played with the Pole, I went buggy-riding with the old Colonel, who had
taken a fancy to me and used to talk to me about Lena and the "great
beauties" he had known in his youth. We were all three in love with Lena.
Before the first of June, Gaston Cleric was offered an instructorship at
Harvard College, and accepted it. He suggested that I should follow him in
the fall, and complete my course at Harvard. He had found out about
Lena--not from me--and he talked to me seriously.
"You won't do anything here now. You should either quit school and go to
work, or change your college and begin again in earnest.
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