er acquainted with her."

"Here we are at Vinton's," announced Grace. "I ordered one of the alcove
tables reserved for us."

As they made their way to the alcove a girl rose from her seat in the
shadow to greet them. It was Ruth, and as Arline caught sight of her her
baby face grew dark. "How dared you?" she asked accusingly, turning
toward Grace. "You know we are not friends. I don't wish to see her. I'm
going straight home. I suppose she planned all this. She has tried to
make up with me, but I shall never again be friends with her."

"Please listen to me, Arline," began Grace, taking the angry little girl
by the arm and pulling her gently toward the alcove. Ruth had risen from
the table, a look of mingled pain and bewilderment on her face.

"I didn't know Arline was to be here," she said tremulously. "Please
tell her I didn't know it." She turned appealing eyes toward Grace.

"Suppose we sit down at our table and talk over this matter," suggested
Grace, in her most casual manner. Her calm gray eyes rested first on
Ruth, then traveled to Arline, who hesitated briefly, then with an angry
shrug of her shoulders seated herself in the nearest chair. Grace
motioned Anne and Ruth to their chairs, then seating herself she said
gently: "Now, children, suppose we clear up some of these doubts and
misunderstanding by holding court? I am going to be the prosecuting
attorney. Anne can be the counsel for the defense. Arline can borrow her
first, then Ruth can have her. When all the evidence is in I shall
appoint myself as judge and jury. It means a great deal of work for me,
but the law must take its course. I, therefore, summon you both into
court."

CHAPTER XIII

GRACE HOLDS COURT

In spite of her displeasure, Arline giggled faintly at Grace's impromptu
session of court. Ruth's sad little face brightened, while Anne listened
to her friend with open admiration. She could have conceived of no surer
way to settle the difference that had made them so unhappy.

"You must remember," Grace said solemnly, "that there can be no dinner
until the court has disposed of its first case. This is a murder trial,
therefore the chief object of the court is to find the murderer of one
friendship, done to death in cruel fashion. I wish I had Emma Dean's
glasses to make me look more imposing. I wonder what kind of voice a
prosecuting attorney would have. Dearly beloved," went on Grace
impressively, "they don't say that in court, I