man. 'But some day, when he's no longer with us, there may he somebody come in who won't want to do for labor more than it wants to do for itself,—but who will want to get out of labor all that it can give for as little as he can give.' I can't blame the men for dreading something of that kind. I'd dread it in their place. It must be worth while to stay and study and work to prevent a change, when so many people are dependent on you. And if it is n't what I'd most like to do, I'd better learn to like it—and I suppose I shall.—How did we happen to get so serious, anyway?"
Lydia did not answer for a moment; her face under her broad blue hat remained serious.
"Oh, I don't see why the nice people who deserve a good time and could do so much good just having it must be saddled with big responsibilities that they don't want," she exclaimed at last. "But I suppose the rest of us would n't admire them half so much if they did n't do such things. And I think you re fine, Floyd, to take it as you do. I like to play and frivol and have fun in life; I'm afraid that's all it means to me."
"So long as you make it mean so much more to somebody else, you need n't worry," said Floyd with a laugh. "And if you'd play with me once in a while, when I can get away from my job—"
"Oh, always " she cried, and her face lighted up quite eagerly. "That's a promise: you'll come here whenever you can; do get off some Saturday afternoon before long, and we can go for a ride out in the country."
"I'll strike for next Saturday," declared Floyd.
"Splendid!" and she clapped her hands. "I'm glad to see you're willing to be something else than heroic all the time."
She chatted then gayly about the people at Chester whom he knew; some of his classmates had been there this summer and had said nice things about him to her, which she now repeated,—to his pleasure and embarrass-
