Then Tom told her, and gave her the letter with which Phil had entrusted him. The young people talked gaily for some minutes longer, and then Madge, with a look at the clock, said that it was about time Miss Philock would be back to see that Tom had not overstayed. "What a short ten minutes!" he exclaimed, and he looked full in Ruth Clinton's eyes. "Wasn't it?" she agreed. "However, I hope you will come again--that is--of course you can't come here, but perhaps we--I--er--that is----" She stopped in confusion. "You're almost as bad as Tom was!" declared Madge, and there was just a little change from her former genial tones. She glanced critically at Tom. "I expect to come over again," replied Phil's chum. "And I hope I shall see you then, Miss Clinton--see all of you, of course," he added quickly. "It depends on Miss Philock," said Miss Warden. "Will you be at the Fairview-Randall football game?" asked Tom. "Yes," answered Ruth, for he looked at her. "I shall see you and Madge, then, I hope, only it's a long way off," and Tom sighed just the least bit. Madge raised her eyebrows. She might be pardoned for considering that Tom, in a measure, was her personal property, and now, the first time he had met Ruth, to hear him talk thus, was something of a shock. But she was too proud to show more than a mere hint of her feelings, and Ruth was, for the time being, entirely unaware that her friend was a bit jealous. "Here comes Philly!" exclaimed Sarah Warden, as steps were heard approaching. "You had better go, Mr. Parsons, if you value your reputation." "Yes," spoke Madge; "better go, Tom. Sorry you couldn't stay longer." "So am I," was his answer, and once more he looked straight at Ruth. He had thought Madge very pretty, and, while he did not waver in the least in still thinking her most attractive, he had to admit to himself that Ruth's was of a different style of beauty. "I'm sure I don't know how to thank you for taking the trouble to bring me this message and letter," said Phil's sister, as she held out her hand to Tom. He took it in a firm clasp. "It was only a pleasure," he said. "Next time I hope to bring better news." "Then there is to be a next time?" she asked archly. "Of course," he replied, and laughed. "Hurry, Tom, or Miss Philock may order you out," urged Madge. "You've overstayed your leave as it is, and she may punish us for it. Good-by," and she held out her hand. Tom clasped it, but a careful observer, with a split-second watch, might have noted that he did not hold it quite as long as he had held Ruth's. A few minutes later Tom was out on the campus, walking toward the trolley that would take him to Haddonfield. His brain was in something of a whirl, and his heart was strangely light. "My! but she's pretty!" he exclaimed half aloud. "What fine eyes! I--I---- Oh, well, what's the use of talking to yourself?" And with that sage reflection Tom pursued his silent way.