CHAPTER XXVI
The college year swept rapidly to its close, so rapidly to the seniors that the days seemed to melt in their grasp. The twentieth of June would bring them their diplomas and the end of their college life. They felt a bit chesty at the thought of that B. S. or A. B., but a little sentimental at the thought of leaving "old Sanford."
Suddenly everything about the college became infinitely precious—every tradition; every building, no matter how ugly; even the professors, not just the deserving few—all of them.
Hugh took to wandering about the campus, sometimes alone, thinking of Cynthia, sometimes with a favored crony such as George Winsor or Pudge Jamieson. He didn't see very much of Norry the last month or two of college. He was just as fond of him as ever, but Norry was only a junior; he would not understand how a fellow felt about Sanford when he was on the verge of leaving her. But George and Pudge did understand. The boys didn't say much as they wandered around the buildings, merely strolled along, occasionally pausing to laugh over some experience that had happened to one of them in the building they were passing.
Hugh could never pass Surrey Hall without feeling something deeper than sentimentality. He always thought of Carl Peters, from whom he had not heard for more than a year. He understood Carl better now, his desire to be a gentleman and his despair at ever succeeding. Surrey Hall held drama for Hugh, not all of it pleasant, but he had a deeper affection for the ivy-covered dormitory then he would ever have for the Nu Delta House. He wondered what had become of Morse, the homesick freshman. Poor Morse.... And the bull sessions he had sat in in old Surrey. He had learned a lot from them, a whole lot....
The chapel where he had slept and surreptitiously eaten doughnuts and read "The Sanford News" suddenly became a holy building, the building that housed the soul of Sanford.... He knew that he was sentimental, that he was investing buildings with a greater significance than they had in their own right, but he continued to dream over the last four years and to find a melancholy beauty in his own sentimentality. If it hadn't been for Cynthia, he would have been perfectly happy.
Soon the examinations were over, and the underclassmen began to depart. Good-by to all his friends who were not seniors. Good-by to Norry Parker. "Thanks for the congratulations, old man. Sorry I can't visit you this summer. Can't you spend a month with me on the farm...?" Good-by to his fraternity brothers except the few left in his own delegation. "Good-by, old man, good-by.... Sure, I'll see you next year at the reunion." Good-by.... Good-by....
Sad, this business of saying good-by, damn sad. Gee, how a fellow would miss all the good old eggs he had walked with and drunk with and bulled with these past years. Good eggs, all of them—damn good eggs.... God! a fellow couldn't appreciate college until he was about to leave it. Oh, for a chance to live those four years over again. "Would I live them differently? I'll say I would."
Good-by, boyhood.... Commencement was coming. Hugh hadn't thought before of what that word meant. Commencement! The beginning. What was he going to do with this commencement of his into life? Old Pudge was going to law school and so was Jack Lawrence. George Winsor was going to medical school. But what was he going to do? He felt so pathetically unprepared. And then there was Cynthia.... What was he going to do about her? She rarely left his mind. How could he tackle life when he couldn't solve the problem she presented? It was like trying to run a hundred against fast men when a fellow had only begun to train.