And that instant Crowley came nearer achieving a complete understanding of Houston's case than he was destined to again--until long after. He was glad to leave the little round room at the end of half an hour. For months Jack and Florence had made plans for the Junior Hop of his third year, but the first of February came and with it a realization to Florence that her hopes were destined to be shattered. Jack explained to her, as best he could, that the three days' respite from work after the first-semester examinations could not be that for him. "I'm up to my eyes, dear," he said--"besides I know you don't care much; you've been to a lot, and as for me I shouldn't care a snap to go over to the Gym. and dance all night. I'm going through the exams, great. I know, dear, I've worked hard, but I must work harder. You understand, don't you?" Of course she understood. Hop? What was a Hop to her? Pouff! That for them! The same always; a great bore, usually, after one has been to three or four. That was what she said to him, but deep in her heart she was disappointed; not keenly perhaps, but disappointed, nevertheless. Through the last semester she saw him less frequently, even, than she had during the earlier part of the year. "I've decided to stay over for summer-school, dear," he said to her one afternoon in mid-June. She was quite joyful at the prospect. "We shall go on the river!" she cried. "We shall, shan't we?" "Of course," he said, earnestly. But not once did they go. From week to week the excursion was postponed, always by Houston, save once. Then Florence's mother was ill. He was quite prepared on that occasion and suffered some displeasure. "Never mind, we'll go in the fall, when you come back," Florence said. In order that he might work during the scant vacation permitted him he carried to his southern home, in August, a case of books. "You'll write me, dear, often--awfully often, won't you?" he said to Florence the night before he left. "Of course," she assured him. And she kept her promise though his letters were infrequent and brief during the interval. He met her in the little round room the first night he was back. He had carried away with him an impression of her in a soft, fluffy blue gown, but now it was autumn, and she was dressed differently. When she came into the room, his senses suffered a shock from which he did not immediately recover. She seemed much older. He wondered if it might not be her costume. He could not recall ever before having seen her in gray. He caught himself, once or twice, regarding her curiously, somewhat critically, and marveled at the phenomenon. She did not chide him for his neglect in not having written her oftener during the two months he had been away. He offered no excuses. It was as though, now, each had forgotten in the other's nearness. Leaving her, he felt that, on the whole, he had got through the evening rather miserably.