"I beg your pardon," he stammered. "Yes--yes, of course." She looked at him with a little maternal pity, knowing the pang that had gone through him, and for a moment a word was on her lips to enlighten him. But she judged it wiser to be silent, and said: "Come in for dinner to-morrow night, surely." This invitation fitted at once into Stover's scheme of mislogic. He saw in it a mark of compassion, and of compassion for what reason? Plainly, Jean was interested in some one else, perhaps engaged. In ten minutes, to his own lugubrious satisfaction, he had convinced himself it was no other than Jim Hunter. But a short, inquisitive talk with Joe Hungerford, who magnanimously appeared stupidly unconscious of the real motives, reassured him on this point. So, after the hot tempest of jealousy, he began to feel a little resentment at her new, illogical attitude of defensive formality. Gradually, as he gave no sign of unbending from his own assumption of strict politeness, she began to change, but so gradually that it was not for weeks that he perceived that the old intimate relations had returned. This little interval, however, had brought to him a new understanding. With her he had lost the old impulsiveness. He began to reason and analyze, to think of cause and effect in their relationship. As a consequence the initiative and the authority that had formerly been with her came to him. All at once he perceived, to his utter surprise, what she had felt immediately on his return: that he was the stronger, and that the old, blind, boyish adoration for the girl, who was companion to the stars, had steadied into the responsible and guiding love of a man. This new supremacy brought with it several differences of opinion. When the question of the football captaincy had come up he did not tell her of his decision, afraid of the ambition he knew was strong in her for his career. When he saw her the next night, Bob had already brought the news and the reason. She received him with great distance, and for the first time showed a little cruelty in her complete ignoring of his presence. "You are angry at me," he said, when finally he had succeeded in finding her alone. "Yes, I am," she said point blank. "Why didn't you tell me what you were planning?" "I didn't dare," he said frankly. "You wouldn't have approved." "Of course I wouldn't. It was ridiculous. Why shouldn't you be the captain?" "There were reasons," he said seriously. "I should not have had a united team back of me--oh, I know it." "Absurd," she said with some heat. "You should have gone out and made them follow you. Really, it's too absurd, renouncing everything. Here's the Junior Prom; every one says you would have led the class if you'd have stood for it." "Yes, and it's just because a lot of fellows thought they knew my whole game of democracy that I wouldn't stand for it." She grew quite angry. He had never seen her so stirred.