Maud introduced him to a number of young people who had been students at the university. They received him cordially, and in a very short time he was enjoying himself very well indeed. He was reminded rather disagreeably of his office, however, by seeing Hartley surrounded by a laughing crowd of the more frolicsome young people. He winked at Albert, as much as to say, "Good stroke of business." The evening passed away with songs, games, and recitations, and it was nearly eleven o'clock when the young people began to wander off toward home in pairs. Albert and Maud were among the first of the young folks to bid the rest good night. The night was clear and cold, but perfectly still, and the young people, arm in arm, walked slowly homeward under the bare maples, in delicious companionship. Albert held her arm close to his side. "Are you cold?" he asked in a low voice. "No, thank you; the night is lovely," she replied; then added with a sigh, "I don't like sociables so well as I used to--they tire me out." "We stayed too long." "It wasn't that; I'm getting so they seem kind o' silly." "Well, I feel a little that way myself," he confessed. "But there is so little to see here in Tyre at any time--no music, no theaters. I like theaters, don't you?" "I can't go half enough." "But nothing worth seeing ever comes into these little towns--and then we're all so poor, anyway." The lamp, turned low, was emitting a terrible odor as they entered the sitting room. "My goodness! it's almost twelve o'clock. Good night." She held out her hand. "Good night," he said, taking it, and giving it a cordial pressure which she remembered long. "Good night," she repeated softly, going up the stairs. Hartley came in a few moments later, and found Bert sitting thoughtfully by the fire, with his coat and shoes off, evidently in deep abstraction. "Well, I got away at last--much as ever. Great scheme, that sociable, eh? I saw your little girl introducing you right and left." "Say, Hartley, I wish you'd leave her out of this thing; I don't like the way you speak of her when----" "Phew! You don't? Oh, all right! I'm mum as an oyster--only keep it up! Get in all the church sociables, and all that; there's nothing like it." Hartley soon had canvassers out along the country roads, and was working every house in town. The campaign promised to lengthen into a month, perhaps longer. Albert especially became a great favorite. Every one declared there had never been such book agents in the town: such gentlemanly fellows, they didn't press anybody to buy; they didn't rush about and "poke their noses where they were not wanted." They were more like merchants with books to sell. The only person who failed to see the attraction in them was Ed Brann, who was popularly supposed to be engaged to Maud. He grew daily more sullen and repellent, toward Albert noticeably so.