“Then why on earth did he ask me to go?” demanded Prudence.  “Any one could tell to look at me that I’m not dignified and intellectual and deep, and——­”

“And I know he admired you, for he was so eager when he asked about you.  Think how grand it would be to speak of ’my sister, Mrs. Professor Rayburn,’ and——­”

“Don’t be silly, Fairy.  If I was going to marry anybody, which I am not, I hope you do not think for one minute that I’d marry a buggist!  Gracious!  Goodness!  I’ve a notion not to go a step!  I’ll call him up and——­”

But Fairy only laughed.

And after all, Prudence looked forward to the little outing in the glorious October woods with eager anticipation.  It was seldom indeed that she indulged in merry-making away from the parsonage.  Yet she was fond of gaiety.  Long before one o’clock on that eventful day, she was ready.  And her face was so bright, and her eyes so starry, that placid self-satisfied Fairy felt a twinge of something like envy.

“You look like a creature from another world, Prue,” she said.  “If Professor Rayburn has any sense in his bones, he will fall dead in love with you,—­bugs or no bugs!”

“People do not have sense in their bones, Fairy, and—­and—­shall I say professor, or just plain Mister?”

“Professor, I suppose,—­every one calls him professor.”

“Then I shall say Mister,” said Prudence.  “It will be so hard to enjoy myself if I keep remembering that he teaches bugs!  I might as well be at school.  I shall say Mister.”

And she did say “Mister,” and she said it so sweetly, and looked up into Professor Rayburn’s face so brightly, and with happiness so evident and so girlish, that the staid professor felt a quick unaccountable throbbing down somewhere beneath his coat.  He did look eager!  There was no doubt of it.  And he looked at Prudence, continuously.

“Just like ordinary men, isn’t he?” whispered Fairy to Eugene Babler,—­called “Babbie,” for short and for humiliation,—­for he enjoyed the reputation of being a “talker” even among college men!

The three young couples struck off briskly down the road, creek-ward, and Prudence followed sedately with her professor.

“Fairy says it was perfectly disgusting of me to tell you I didn’t know anything about bugs,” she said comfortably.  “But I thought maybe, you were one of those professors who like one thing so much they can’t be interested in anything else.  And I wanted to warn you.  But I guess you aren’t that kind, after all?”

“Oh, no, indeed,” he assured her fervently, looking deep into her blue eyes.  “I like bugs, it is true.  But really I like other things, one thing at least, much better.”

“Is it a riddle?” she inquired.  “Am I supposed to guess?”

“It isn’t a riddle, but you may guess.  Think hard, now!  It’s a serious matter.  Please don’t say ‘food.’”