r father's gentleness, his habitual
restraint, had seemed finer and nobler after that.

In the nature of her upbringing Phil had developed the habit of thinking
her way out of perplexities. Her intimate knowledge of the history and
traditions of Montgomery furnished the basis for a healthy philosophy,
and the wide range of her well-directed reading had opened doors that
let in upon her intelligence much of the light and shadow of human
experience. Happiness was not, she knew, an inalienable right, but
something to be sought and worked for. Her thoughts played about her
father and his life--that broken column of a life, with its pathetic
edges! What would become of him and Nan, now that she knew Nan loved
him, and imaginably, he loved her? For the first time in her life she
found her face pressed against a dark pane, unable to see light.

She was conscious that some one was walking rapidly behind her, and she
whirled round as her name was spoken. It was Fred Holton, who had
evidently been following her.

"Why so formal! Why didn't you whistle?" she asked, shaking hands with
him. "Those birds you sent me were meat for gods.

'Then mighty Jove,
Grabbing the last brown quail from off the plate,
Shouted, "For gods alone such food"; and bade
Dian to skip, with bow well bent, and bring
A billion birds to grace another feast.'"

"If Dian filled that order," said Fred, "it would get her into trouble
with the game warden."

"That was one good thing about the gods," remarked Phil as he caught
step with her; "they didn't have to be afraid of policemen. How did you
come to tear yourself loose from Stop 7 to-day?"

"Trouble, if you want the real truth."

They had reached the college and were walking along the Buckeye Lane
side of the campus. Fred was wrapped in his ulster and wore an old fur
cap with its ear-flaps gathered up and tied on top. Now that the first
pleasure of the meeting had passed, an anxious look had come into his
face. He stared straight ahead, walking doggedly.

"I came into town to see your father, but I just missed him. I wanted to
talk to him."

"He hasn't been in town much lately and he was only here for an hour
this morning. But he'll be back in a few days."

"I'm sorry," said Fred, "not to see him to-day."

Just what business he had with her father she could not imagine; but she
was sorry for his trouble, whatever it might be. In her recent
reflections tou