"Smile on them all, Billy. You're equal to it." "But I don't want 'em. I came here to see you, not Miss Swift of Chicago." "You don't appreciate your advantages, Billy," she said, laughing, as they went together up the steps of the Art Gallery. "Maybe not. I appreciate you, though, and I sail, in ten days. When shall you be off duty again?" She looked down at the throng already streaming up the steps behind them. "Come and rescue me at half-past nine, Billy, unless you find Miss Swift of Chicago a more potent attraction." "Trust me!" And he vanished. For more than an hour, the stream of people flowed past her. Everywhere was the swish of countless gowns, the low murmur of countless voices. Every one was there, not only the seniors and their friends, but the girls of the under classes, with here and there a wide-eyed, wondering sub-freshman. Faculty hobnobbed with sophomores, and the alumnae pervaded all things and were in their glory. It was a pretty picture, backed as it was by the dull-hued walls and fine statuary of the gallery; and Theodora glanced about her in contented pride, to see if any of her friends were near and enjoying this crowning glory of her Alma Mater. Ten feet away, Mrs. McAlister was discussing football with the brother of one of the seniors, a boy too young to have any real share in the evening's pleasure. Not far off, Dr. McAlister was contentedly ruffling up his hair, while he monopolized the attention of a prominent professor, who appeared altogether unconscious of the passing moments and of the crowd of alumnae waiting for a word. Theodora smiled to herself, as she caught an occasional phrase,-- "All the bromides--Grand antiseptic qualities--Your essay in the last review." Out on the stairs, Hope was in the midst of a gay crowd; and, quite at the other side of the building, Hubert sat on the pedestal of the Dying Gaul, with one arm thrown across the neck of the statue, while he talked to the pretty young girl perched at his side. Punctual to the moment, Billy appeared. "Now let's get out of this," he said abruptly. "Aren't you having a good time?" she questioned, with a little hurt tone. "Yes, fine. I struck some Cleveland girls; they're always pretty. But now I want a breath of fresh air and a little sensible conversation. Come along." "Where?" "Anywhere, as long as it's quiet." She laughed, as she handed him her fan. "I believe you're tired before I am, Billy." "No; only I do want a little chance to see you. It's not as if I were going to be at home, this summer." She glanced at him sharply. Then she bit her lip a little, as she followed him through the crowd at the door, and out upon the campus. "This is pretty, for a fact, Ted," he said, breaking the silence. "Yale can't show anything to beat this."