"I just dropped in for a few minutes' chat," his visitor explained. "There's something doing later. It's funny that I have n't been up to the Hall once in the last ten years, and now I 've come twice in a week. When I was a kid, I used to hang around the edge of the campus, over there by the bishop's statue, and listen to the band on Commencement Day. Sometimes I used to crawl in under the fence to baseball games, too. St. George's put up a gilt-edged article of ball in those days."
"I remember hearing that they had a star year, when they beat everything in sight."
Emmet remembered the year in question, and the very names of the chief players, who were enshrined in his mind as only an athletic hero can be enshrined in the imagination of the normal boy. As he chatted on about his early impressions of the Hall, his listener became aware that he regarded their first interview as the doorway of a friendship into which he had now entered. A knowledge of this fact smote Leigh with some compunction, for he had been so much absorbed in his own ulterior purpose as to regard this man in the light of a means toward its accomplishment. Now Emmet stood before him again, haying taken him at his word, innocent of his original position as a pawn in another's game. He was not one who deserved to be so regarded, and Leigh felt this, though a greater interest had hitherto interfered with his appreciation. There was an element of discovery in this second meeting that was not unwelcome. Emmet's implied acceptance of his friendship suddenly added a new interest to his life, and served to enrich for him the city of Warwick, which until now had appeared a somewhat nebulous place, where only one spot glowed with warmth and light.
"Come into my shanty here," he said heartily. "I want to show you something I think will interest you. Have you ever looked at the stars?"
"On the street corner, at ten cents a look," Emmet answered.
"Then this will be something of a revelation to you. Miss Wycliffe is going to bring up a party to-night to use the telescope, but it's early yet."
The other made no comment upon this statement, and the reason of his silence remained obscure; whether it were due to indifference, or to a fear of disclosing a cherished emotion. It seemed more likely that the latter was the true explanation, and Leigh already knew his visitor well enough to be prepared for sudden streaks of reticence or secretiveness. The fact that he had discouraged his previous advances on the subject of Miss Wycliffe was enough to explain this present silence, but he felt that Emmet was acutely conscious of her impending arrival. He could not help wondering also whether he would linger deliberately until she should come. Speculating thus, he sat down in the chair and trained the telescope upon Saturn.
"There," he said, rising. "What do you make of that?"
"I see a star," Emmet answered after a while, "with a ring of mist around it—two rings."
"There are four, at least," said Leigh; "but the inner and intermediate rings are dark. A better instrument would show a greenish hue. There are eight satellites besides. You can imagine what sort of moonlit nights they have in Saturn, supposing that any one lives there to enjoy them."