As he strode off down the street he was conscious of an extremely uncomfortable feeling that they were glad to be rid of him. Indeed, now that he thought of it, Jane had not seemed especially pleased when he dropped in shortly after supper. He recalled her long silences and the way she kept her gaze fixed on the street. Yes, they were glad to be rid of him. Any one could see that with half an eye. He smarted a little. It hurt him to think that Jane didn’t want him around. Now that she was a woman she didn’t want him hanging around. She wanted somebody else. Somehow it didn’t seem natural. But then, he philosophized, why wasn’t it natural? She was old enough to be thinking seriously of getting married, old enough to have been in love a half dozen times or more—only he couldn’t conceive of Jane being so silly and vacillating as all that—and she certainly had a right to be annoyed with him if he came meddling around—He stopped short in his tracks, a queer little chill of dismay striking in upon him. For a moment he felt utterly desolate and bewildered. He felt lost. Why, it meant that he and Jane couldn’t be playmates or chums any longer. Without quite knowing what he was doing, he turned and looked back in the direction from which he had come. He saw the little red tail-light far up the street, standing guard, so to speak, in front of the parsonage. A red light signified danger. It means “steer clear,” “go slow,” “beware.” Jamming his hands into his pockets he resumed his way homeward, but now he walked slowly, his head bent in thought. Presently his face began to brighten, and soon he was grinning delightedly.