At times Merry had seemed to realize the presence of that subtle influence, and then had risen vague visions of the many girls he had known, with Elsie and Inza the most prominent. Elsie, by her gentle ways, had crept into his heart, and, for a time, it had seemed that she had excluded Inza. Not that she had meant to do such a thing, for Elsie Bellwood, sweet, gentle, loving, would have died rather than wrong the girl who had been her friend. But Elsie was human, and all who are human make mistakes. Inza was no less human, and her spirit and pride had led her into blunders as great—perhaps greater—than those of Elsie. Was that a reason why Frank should not love her? Rather, was it not a reason why he should love her more? It seemed that his love had been pent-up and suppressed all these years; but now, in a single moment, Dick Starbright, by a few simple words, had torn away the dam, and it came rolling down upon Frank’s heart in a tide that was overwhelming and irresistible. He felt himself seized and swept away with the released tide, against which it was useless to battle. “It’s true!” he told himself, in sudden joy. “I do love her!” But Elsie! He felt a sudden chill run over him, and it seemed that his heart stood still. What of her? He was forced to confess to himself that for a long time he had fancied he cared more for sweet, gentle Elsie than for Inza. And had he not given Elsie reason to believe such was the case? Had he not placed himself in an awkward position, a position from which he could not manfully withdraw? No wonder he was chilled! No wonder his heart seemed to stop beating! No wonder he sat there like one turned to stone, the expression of happiness having left his face and the light of joy vanished from his eyes. Frank groaned aloud, causing Starbright to start and turn slightly. If Dick had meant to speak he was checked by a single gesture Frank made, and he settled back once more to let the tortured youth fight out the battle with himself and solve the problem if he could. Merry rose and paced the floor, seemingly having forgotten Dick entirely. His aspect plainly indicated that a terrible tumult stirred his soul, but his teeth were set, his jaws squared, and no further sound came from his closed lips. Starbright had seen him look somewhat like this before in times of severe trial, but never quite so awe-inspiring and intense. Not even in the mighty contest against Harvard on the gridiron had such an expression rested in Frank’s face. His mind was running over the past, and he was weighing every word and act in the balance, feeling that the deciding hour of his life had come. He might have sought to put it off had he been weak and faltering; he might have resolved to wait and let circumstances work out the solution; but, instead, he set himself to weigh everything carefully and decide what was the thing he must do. He would cut out his course for the future and try to follow it to the end.