The approach of Hamlen and Merry brought the unsatisfactory discussion to a forced conclusion, and Huntington rejoiced that it saved him from further expostulations. Thatcher had returned to the club-house to telephone, leaving Hamlen and Merry by themselves. Hamlen responded to Merry's spontaneous vivacity, and both were in the best of spirits as they walked toward the shelter. He was heavier now and it became him. The sallowness had left his face and a slight color appeared in his cheeks. The girl beside him, as always when enthusiastic, radiated happiness. Her companion could scarcely keep up with her as she half walked half ran up the slight incline. "Look at them!" Mrs. Thatcher exclaimed, turning to Huntington. "Who are you to tell me I am wrong!" Huntington was spared the necessity of reply for Merry had reached them. Mrs. Thatcher rose and strolled away by herself to relieve her overwrought feelings. "Oh, for a golf-skirt and a bag of clubs!" the girl cried. "When may I play this adorable course?" "To-morrow morning," Huntington replied promptly, "if my guests permit me to provide them with other entertainment. After to-morrow I must give you up to those most exalted of personages, the Seniors." "I'd love to play this course," Merry said gratefully,--"but you're going over for Class Day, aren't you?" "Yes; but we old grads don't count as against the Seniors. They are the heroes and we bend the knee. On Thursday we shall walk respectfully up to the graduating class, bow politely, and say, 'We who are about to die, salute you'!" Merry laughed gaily. "Then, the next day, these heroes jump down off their pedestals, walk respectfully up to the old grads, bow politely, and say, 'Please give us a job'!" "Don't be an iconoclast, Miss Merry," Huntington retorted. "These boys may be looking for jobs, but they are richer than any of us: they have youth, and life is before them." "Grandpa!" the girl laughed mischievously. "I sha'n't let you call me that!" he cried, really piqued. "Then don't be so unfair to yourself!" she retaliated; "you are the youngest 'old' man I ever met!" * * * * * XXIX * * * * * It was with real regret the following morning that Huntington watched his ball drop into the cup on the eighteenth green. The round had been too perfect, the experience too enjoyable to come to an end so soon. "Five down," Merry remarked. "That looks to me like a real defeat." "I'm glad to find some game I can play better than you," Huntington replied banteringly. "I'm still sore over our swimming-races in Bermuda. But in all fairness I must admit that this course is built for a man's game, and the premium on the length of the wooden clubs was all that saved me to-day." "You are generous,--but I acknowledge my defeat. Do we have to go home now?"