"But what about the religious influence of the University?" Marcia Dayne
had ventured to ask him one evening as they walked slowly under the elms
of Monroe Avenue.

"I don't know about that," Joe answered, "and maybe I'm making a
mistake. But I don't think so. To begin with, there isn't any question
about equipment at the State University. They have everything any church
school has, and probably more than most church schools, for what I want.
And they work in close relationship to the medical school. That's one
thing. The big reason, though--I wonder if you'll understand it?"

"I believe I could understand anything you might be thinking about--now,
Joe." And Marcia's voice had in it a note which stirred that usually
self-possessed young man out of all his easy composure.

"I'll remember that, Marcia," he said in the thrill of a swift elation.
"I'll remember that, because I think you do--understand, and some day
I--but I've got at least five years of plugging ahead of me, and----"

"You were going to tell me about your big reason for going to the State
University," Marcia broke in, though she wondered afterward if her
instinct had not played her false.

"Yes," Joe said, with a little effort. "Well, this is it. You know I
didn't make much of a hit at college; I pulled through sophomore year,
but that's about all, and I doubt if the faculty will pass resolutions
of regret when I don't show up there in the fall. The religious
influences of a church school didn't prevent me from being a good deal
of a heathen, though I will say that was no fault of the school. Maybe I