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 famous by Dr. Rowland. He assured him, moreover, that he would find the atmosphere of an old Southern city delightful.

“Yes, I know something about the atmosphere,” Tom broke out at last. “It is delightful, but it’s all wrong for me. It discourages me dreadfully. I used to go over there when I was in Washington, and it always made me blue. I don’t believe I could ever work there.”

“But can you trust a child’s impressions to guide you now, in such an important decision?” asked Mrs. St. Peter gravely.

“I wasn’t a child, Mrs. St. Peter. I was as much grown up as I am now—older, in some ways. It was only about a year before I came here.”

“But, Tom, you were on the section gang that year! Why do you mix us all up?” Kathleen caught his hand and squeezed the knuckles together, as she did when she wanted to punish him.

“Well, maybe it was two years before. It doesn’t matter. It was long enough to count for two ordinary years,” he muttered abstractedly. Again he went away abruptly, and a few days later he told St. Peter that he had definitely accepted the instructorship under Crane, and would stay on in Hamilton.

During that summer after Outland’s graduation, St. Peter got to know all there was behind his reserve. Mrs. St. Peter and the two girls were in