I had to do the
best I could."

"Why, I didn't think much about it, I suppose. But I certainly should
have said that Tony's father was more than forty-five!"

"Ye-es, I suppose it might. But--but what a very funny subject for us
to get on! I suppose--look at that white hen coming in, Mr. Fox! She's
my prize winner. Isn't she a beauty?"

"Yes, indeed, he's all of that, dear old Tony! And then, as I say, he
reminded me of--of that other, you know, years ago. I was only
nineteen, hardly more than a child, but the memory is very sweet, and
it made me want to be a good friend to Tony!"

"There's the six o'clock bell, and you're all but free! Now, I'll let
you out by this door, on the street side, and you can find your hotel?
Then, when you call this evening, we needn't say anything of this. It
hasn't been such a long afternoon, has it?"

Just after dinner, as Miss Mix and her youthful fiance were sitting on
the porch in the spring twilight, a visitor entered the garden from the
street. At sight of him, the boy sprang to his feet with a cry of "Dad!"

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 drif