"Trouble, if you want the real truth." They had reached the college and were walking along the Buckeye Lane side of the campus. Fred was wrapped in his ulster and wore an old fur cap with its ear-flaps gathered up and tied on top. Now that the first pleasure of the meeting had passed, an anxious look had come into his face. He stared straight ahead, walking doggedly. "I came into town to see your father, but I just missed him. I wanted to talk to him." "He hasn't been in town much lately and he was only here for an hour this morning. But he'll be back in a few days." "I'm sorry," said Fred, "not to see him to-day." Just what business he had with her father she could not imagine; but she was sorry for his trouble, whatever it might be. In her recent reflections touching the Holtons she had not thought of Fred at all; nor did it occur to her now that he was in any way concerned with the Sycamore difficulties. "Miss Kirkwood--" "Well, Mr. Holton, if you will be real nice, I'll let you call me Phil. I met you before I grew up--that night I danced in the cornfield. The moon introduced and chaperoned us, after a fashion, so we'll consider that you belong to the earlier period of what might be called my life. That was my last fling. When I came home that night I was a grown-up. How do you like that, Fred?" "More than I care to say!" And his face lighted. He realized perfectly that knowing his diffidence she was trying to make things easier for him, just as she had at her party. Phil was wondering whether she dared ask him to go to the Bartletts' with her for luncheon. "It's lonesome, Phil, not having anybody to talk to about your troubles. There are times when we've got to lean up against advice." "They say I never do much leaning," Phil replied. "My aunts say it. There ought to be a place like a post-office where you could poke in a question and get the answer right back; but there isn't." "Our folks are in a lot of trouble, according to the papers," said Fred. "That's what I wanted to see your father about." "Oh!" "I felt that I ought to see him as soon as possible." "I wouldn't trouble about what's in the papers. That's what my father came back for to-day--to head off the home papers about the traction company." "Just how do you mean?" he asked, clearly puzzled. "I thought he was on the other side of the case." "Well, the 'Star' this evening will say that everything will be all right, and for people not to get excited. I don't see why you should bother. You're a farmer and not mixed up in the traction business." He seemed not to notice when they reached and passed the Bartletts', though she had told him she was going there for luncheon.