For Marjorie, child of sunlight, and Mavis, child of shadows, riding bareheaded together under the brilliant moon, were the twin spirits of the night, and that moon dimmed the eyes of both only as she dimmed the stars.  He saw Mavis swerving at every stop and every gallop to Gray’s side, and always he found Marjorie somewhere near him.  And only John Burnham understood it all, and he wondered and smiled, and with the smile wondered again.

There had been no time for dancing lessons, but the little comedy of sentiment went on just the same.  In neither Mavis nor Jason was there the slightest consciousness of any chasm between them and Marjorie and Gray, though at times both felt in the latter pair a vague atmosphere that neither would for a long time be able to define as patronage, and so when Jason received an invitation to the first dance given in the hotel ballroom in town, he went straight to Marjorie and solemnly asked “the pleasure of her company” that night.

For a moment Marjorie was speechless.

“Why, Jason,” she gasped, “I—­I—­you’re a freshman, and anyhow—­”

For the first time the boy gained an inkling of that chasm, and his eyes turned so fiercely sombre and suspicious that she added in a hurry: 

“It’s a joke, Jason—­that invitation.  No freshman can go to one of those dances.”

Jason looked perplexed now, and still a little suspicious.

“Who’ll keep me from goin’?” he asked quietly,

“The sophomores.  They sent you that invitation to get you into trouble.  They’ll tear your clothes off.”

As was the habit of his grandfather Hawn, Jason’s tongue went reflectively to the hollow of one cheek, and his eyes dropped to the yellow leaves about their feet, and Marjorie waited with a tingling thrill that some vague thing of importance was going to happen.  Jason’s face was very calm when he looked up at last, and he held out the card of invitation.

“Will that git—­get me in, when I a-get to the door?”

“Of course, but—­”

“Then I’ll be th-there,” said Jason, and he turned away.

Now Marjorie knew that Gray expected to take her to that dance, but he had not yet even mentioned it.  Jason had come to her swift and straight; the thrill still tingled within her, and before she knew it she had cried impulsively: 

“Jason, if you get to that dance, I’ll—­I’ll dance every square dance with you.”

Jason nodded simply and turned away.

The mischief-makers soon learned the boy’s purpose, and there was great joy among them, and when Gray finally asked Marjorie to go with him, she demurely told him she was going with Jason.  Gray was amazed and indignant, and he pleaded with her not to do anything so foolish.

“Why, it’s outrageous.  It will be the talk of the town.  Your mother won’t like it.  Maybe they won’t do anything to him because you are along, but they might, and think of you being mixed up in such a mess.  Anyhow I tell you—­you can’t do it.”