"All right, governor," answered Vandover. "I'll take him out. Come
along, Cork."

"But aren't you home earlier than usual to-day?" persisted his father as
Vandover got up.

"Yes," said Vandover, "I guess I am, a little."

After supper the same evening when Vandover came downstairs, drawing on
his gloves, his father looked over his paper, saying pleasantly:

"Well, where are you going to-night?"

"I'm going to see my girl," said Vandover, smiling; then foreseeing the
usual question, he added, "I'll be home about eleven, I guess."

"Got your latch-key?" asked the Old Gentleman, as he always did when
Vandover went out.

"Yep," called back Vandover as he opened the door. "I'll not forget it
again. Good-night, governor."

Vandover used to call on Turner Ravis about twice a week; people said
they were engaged. This was not so.

Vandover had met Miss Ravis some two years before. For a time the two
had been sincerely in love with each other, and though there was never
any talk of marriage between them, they seemed to have some sort of
tacit understanding. But by this time Vandover had somehow outgrown the