Miss Mix was introduced, and to young Tony’s delight, she and his father chatted as comfortably as old friends.  Presently, when Jerry Billings appeared with an invitation for the lady to accompany him to the post office for possible mail, father and son were left alone together.

Young Anthony beamed at his father’s praise of his choice, but his comments seemed to come more easily on other matters.  He told his father of the Rogers boys, of the Pepper girls, and of tennis and theatricals, and spoke hopefully of a possible camping trip with these friends.

“When did you think of announcing your engagement, Bud?”

The boy shifted in his chair, and laughed uneasily.

“Sally doesn’t want to,” he temporized, adding shyly, after a minute’s silence, “and I didn’t think you’d be in any hurry, dad!”

“But look here, son, you wrote that you planned being married in June!”

There was a pause.  Then the boy said: 

“I did think so; but now I don’t see how we can.  Sally sees that, too.  I can’t get married until I have a good job, and I’ve got another year here.  We don’t want to tell every one and then have to wait two or three years, do we, sir?”

“H-m!” said his father.  “And yet you don’t want to ask me to support you and your wife for indefinite years, Bud?”

Bud squeezed his father’s hand.

“I’ll never ask you to do that!” he promised promptly.

IV

A week drifted pleasantly over the college town, and still no definite step had been taken in the matter that had carried Anthony Fox over so many weary miles of country.  If business matters in the Eastern city gave him any concern, he gave no sign of it to young Anthony or Sally, seeming entirely content with the passing moment.

The three were constantly together, except when the boy was in the class-room.  During these intervals Miss Mix piloted her friend’s father over lovely Palo Alto; they visited museum and library together, took drives and walks.  One long evening was spent at the Peppers’, where young Anthony was the centre of a buzzing and hilarious group, and where Sally, with her black evening gown and her violin, presented an entirely new phase.

On the evening of a certain glorious day, to young Anthony, sitting in silence on the porch steps, came Sally, who seated herself beside him.

“Tony,” said she, firmly, “what have we decided about our engagement?”

Young Anthony eyed her expectantly, almost nervously, but he did not speak.

“We must either announce it or not announce it, Tony!”

“Why, you see, Sally,” said Anthony, after a pause, “I wanted to, a while back, but—­” “I know you did,” she said heartily, to his great relief.

“But now, he pursued slowly,” it would look pretty funny to the Rogerses, and the Peppers, and all, you know.  Just now, I mean.  I’ve been up there all the time, right in things, and I’ve never said a word—­”