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           "Ofcourse.You’llhateschoolforawhile,too,butI’mgladyou’regoingtoSt.Regis’s."

           "Why?"

           "Becauseit’sagentleman’sschool,anddemocracywon’thityousoearly.You’llfindplentyofthatincollege."

           "IwanttogotoPrinceton,"saidAmory."Idon’tknowwhy,butIthinkofallHarvardmenassissies,likeIusedtobe,andallYalemenaswearingbigbluesweatersandsmokingpipes."

           Monsignorchuckled.

           "I’mone,youknow."

           "Oh,you’redifferent—IthinkofPrincetonasbeinglazyandgood-lookingandaristocratic—youknow,likeaspringday.Harvardseemssortofindoors—"

           "AndYaleisNovember,crispandenergetic,"finishedMonsignor.

           "That’sit."

           Theyslippedbrisklyintoanintimacyfromwhichtheyneverrecovered.

           "IwasforBonniePrinceCharlie,"announcedAmory.

           "Ofcourseyouwere—andforHannibal—"

           "Yes,andfortheSouthernConfederacy."HewasratherscepticalaboutbeinganIrishpatriot—hesuspectedthatbeingIrishwasbeingsomewhatcommon—butMonsignorassuredhimthatIrelandwasaromanticlostcauseandIrishpeoplequitecharming,andthatitshould,byallmeans,beoneofhisprincipalbiasses.

           Afteracrowdedhourwhichincludedseveralmorecigarettes,andduringwhichMonsignorlearned,tohissurprisebutnottohishorror,thatAmoryhadnotbeenbroughtupaCatholic,heannouncedthathehadanotherguest.