to stay away from class two weeks on account of it, didn't you?"
"No," exclaimed Tom quickly, "not on that account."
"Oh!" she cried, struck by the change in Tom's voice. "I—I heard so."
"Did Langridge tell you that?"
"Yes," was her answer.
"Well, it was partly on that account," and Tom turned the conversation away from what he considered a dangerous subject.
If Langridge cherished any ill will toward Tom for taking away Miss Tyler the 'varsity pitcher did not show it. But Tom noticed that he was not far from the girl's side the remainder of the evening.
"I wonder if she doesn't believe what I told her about him," thought Tom. "Well, I'm not going to say anything more. Let her find out for herself. Only—well, what's the use?" and he went to claim another dance elsewhere.
It was the last waltz. Around the brilliant, gaily decorated room swung the dancers to the strains of the enthralling music. Langridge skilfully led Miss Tyler in and out among the maze of couples. The music turned into another melody.
"I think this is about half," she said.
"About half? What do you mean?"
"Well, you were so greedy," she explained, laughter in her eyes, "that I had to punish you. I
