eem in the least disturbed, and he cheerfully
accompanied Hugh and Cynthia to the station. He looked at Cynthia and
had an idea.

"Have you checked your bag?"

"Yes," Hugh replied.

"Well, give me the check and I'll get it for you. I'll meet you at the
gate."

Hugh surrendered the check and then proceeded to the gate with Cynthia.
He turned to her and asked gently, "May I kiss you, Cynthia?"

For an instant she looked down and said nothing; then she turned her
face up to his. He kissed her tenderly, wondering why he felt no
passion, afraid that he would.

"Good-by, Cynthia dear," he whispered.

Her hands fluttered helplessly about his coat lapels and then fell to
her side. She managed a brave little smile. "Good-by--honey."

Carl rushed up with the bag. "Gosh, Hugh, you've got to hurry; they're
closing the gate." He gripped his hand for a second. "Visit me at Bar
Harbor this summer if you can."

"Sure. Good-by, old man. Good-by Cynthia."

"Good-by--good-by."

Hugh slipped through the gate and, turned to wave at Carl and Cynthia.
They waved back, and then he ran for the train.

On the long trip to Haydensville Hugh relaxed. Now that the strain was
over, he felt suddenly weak, but it was sweet weakness. He could
graduate in peace now. The visit to New York had been worth while. And
what do you know, bumping into old Carl like that I Cynthia and he were
friends, too, the best friends in the world, but she no longer wanted to
marry him. That was fine.... He remembered the picture she and Carl had
made standing on the other side of the gate from him. "What a peach of a
pair. Golly, wouldn't it be funny if they hit it off...."

He thought over every word that he and Cynthia had said. She certainly
had been square all right. Not many like her, but "by heaven, I knew
down in my heart all the time that I didn't want to get married or even
engaged. It would have played hell with everything."

CHAPTER XXVII

The next morning Hugh's mother and father arrived in the automobile. He
was to drive them back to Merrytown the day after commencement. At last
he stood in the doorway of the Nu Delta house and welcomed his father,
but he had forgotten all about that youthful dream. He was merely aware
that he was enormously glad to see the "folks" and that his father
seemed to be withering into an old man.

As the under-classmen departed, the alumni began to arrive. The "five
year" classes dressed in extraordinary