Stover, himself, despite his inclination to come forward in direct opposition, after a long debate, remained silent, feeling bound by the oath he had given at his initiation.
Shortly after the news spread like wildfire that the President, taking cognizance of the intolerable state of affairs, had summoned representatives of the three sophomore societies before him, and given them a month to deliberate and decide on some scheme of reform that would be comprehensive and adequate.
Rightly or wrongly, Stover felt that these developments intensified the feeling of the society element against him. A few weeks outside the boundaries, despite all his bravado, had brought home to him how much he cared for the companionship of those from whom he had separated.
Regan was his one friend; Brockhurst stimulated him; and in the intercourse with Swazey, Pike, Lake, Ricketts, and others he had found a certain inspiration. But after all, the men of his own kind—Story, Hungerford, and others, whom from pride he now avoided—were largely the men of the society crowd. They spoke a language he understood, they came from a home that was like his home, and their judgment of him would go with him out into the new relations in life.
"REGAN WAS HIS ONE FRIEND"—Page 288.
It was a time of depression and bitter revolt at what he knew was the injustice of his ostracism, forgetting how much was of his own proud choosing.
He wandered from crowd to crowd, rather taciturn and restless, seeking diversion with a consuming nervousness. The new restlessness of spirit drove him away from the conferences in Regan's and Swazey's rooms to the company of idlers. For a period, in his pride and bitterness, he let go of himself, flung the reins to the wind, and started down hill with a gallop.