ch contains so many elements of danger."

"You put it strongly, Mr. Huntington."

"I feel it strongly; that must be my excuse."

Mrs. Thatcher was visibly affected. It was several moments before she
spoke, and Huntington could see that she resented his attitude.

"You look at it wholly from a man's standpoint," she protested. "No one
with Philip Hamlen's temperament can find the life he craves in
companionship with men alone. Of course I respect your convictions, but
you in turn must respect mine. I am so sure I am right that I cannot
abandon the hope I have so long cherished. It will be more difficult of
accomplishment without you, but if necessary I must carry it through
alone."

"Forgive me, Mrs. Thatcher,--but are you not thinking of him and of your
obligation more than of your daughter?"

"You surely don't think I would force Merry against her will!"

"Sometimes we leave one a free moral agent," Huntington said pointedly,
"and at the same time bind him with chains stronger than iron by
expression of our own desires."

The approach of Hamlen and Merry brought the unsatisfactory discussion
to a forced conclusion, and Huntington rejoiced that it saved him from
further expostulations. Thatcher had returned to the club-house to
telephone, leaving Hamlen and Merry by themselves. Hamlen responded to
Merry's spontaneous vivacity, and both were in the best of spirits as
they walked toward the shelter. He was heavier now and it became him.
The sallowness had left his face and a slight color appeared in his
cheeks. The girl beside him, as always when enthusiastic, radiated
happiness. Her companion could scarcely keep up with her as she half
walked half ran up the slight incline.

"Look at them!" Mrs. Thatcher exclaimed, turning to Huntington. "Who are
you to tell me I am wrong!"

Huntington was spared the necessity of reply for Merry had reached them.
Mrs. Thatcher rose and strolled away by herself to relieve her
overwrought feelings.

"Oh, for a golf-skirt and a bag of clubs!" the girl cried. "When may I
play this adorable course?"

"To-morrow morning," Huntington replied promptly, "if my guests permit
me to provide them with other entertainment. After to-morrow I must give
you up to those most exalted of personages, the Seniors."

"I'd love to play this course," Merry said gratefully,--"but you're
going over for Class Day, aren't you?"

"Yes; but we old grads don't count as against the Seniors. They are the