"Oh, you mean----" and Phil would have blurted out the name, had not Miss Tyler laid a pretty hand over his mouth. "Hush," cautioned Madge. "No names out in company, if you please." "Oh!" exclaimed Tom comprehendingly. "How is she?" "Rather miserable," answered Ruth. "She wouldn't come with us, though we knew you boys wouldn't object." "Of course not," spoke Phil quickly. "And she stayed there in the room, moping." "Just like----" began Phil, and again the pretty fingers spread themselves across his lips. "It's too bad," resumed Tom. "If he only would explain then----" "Then everything would be all right," finished Ruth. "But he won't. Talk about women having a mind of their own, and being stubborn! I know a certain young man very much that way." "Oh, you mustn't talk so about him," expostulated Phil. "He's all right. There's something queer at the bottom of it, and I shouldn't be surprised to learn that Langridge had had a hand in it." "By Jove, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Tom. "Maybe you're right. I wonder if we could do anything to help?" "Better not meddle," cautioned Ruth. "Madge and I tried to use our influence, and were roundly snubbed for our pains. It's too bad, but maybe things will come right after a while. Oh, there's a lovely waltz! Isn't it perfectly grand!" and her eyes sparkled in anticipation as Tom led her out on the floor while the music welled forth in dreamy strains. Back in the "den of the inseparables" Sid sat in gloomy loneliness, making a pretense of studying. "Oh, hang it all!" he cried at length, as he flung the book from him, knocking down the alarm clock in its flight. "What is the use? I might as well give up." Then, as he noted the cessation of the fussy ticking of the timepiece he crossed to where it lay on the ragged rug, and picked it up. "Hope it isn't damaged," he murmured contritely. He shook it vigorously, and the ticking resumed. "It's all right," he added, with a breath of relief, "you couldn't hurt it with an axe. Guess I might as well turn in. But I wish----" he paused, shrugged his shoulders helplessly, and did not finish. There came a knock at the door, and Sid started. He flung open the portal, and Wallops, the messenger, stood in the hall. "A note for you, Mr. Henderson," he said. "A fellow just brought it." Sid snatched it eagerly, a hopeful look showing on his face. Then, as he saw the writing, there seemed to come into his eyes a shadow of fear. "All right, Wallops," he replied kindly, and he closed the door. "Again," he exclaimed. "Oh, will this never end? Must I carry this secret all through college?" and he tore the note to bits. Then he slipped on another coat, pulled a cap down over his eyes and went out. "Why, Sid isn't here!" exclaimed Phil, when he and Tom, bubbling over still, with the spirit of the dance, came back to their apartment, after having escorted the girls home.