"Are you in trouble, Ned?" cried the girl suddenly, a soberness driving the pleasure from her face.
"Very great trouble, Mary," said Ned. "Do you not know?"
Deeply he searched the eyes looking into his. He could tell by the innocence, the solicitude of them that they had not learned the thing he feared. He was greatly relieved.
"What is it, Ned?" was her anxious query. "I have heard of no trouble."
"Perhaps it is only a cloud over the sun," was the reply. "It may pass by. Indeed you have brightened things a lot for me already. Let us breathe our broncs while we talk it all over."
Slipping from his saddle he assisted her to dismount. Taking charge of the horses he secured them to adjacent trees and followed to where she had seated herself on a gnarled log at the foot of the little falls.
"I have a little surprise for you," said he, throwing himself on the leaves at her feet. "I am not returning to college this fall."
Her eyes opened wide, expressing a mystified incredulity.
"Sad but true!" was his reiteration.
"But your year, Ned! It is your final. You must finish."