e'll have a spread. I'm sorry you
weren't with us to-night, but Anne and I weren't sure as to just how
successfully our plan would work. Everything went smoothly, though."
Grace related briefly what had taken place at the dinner.

"I am glad Ruth and Arline settled their differences," commented Miriam.
"We all knew that Arline was at fault. She is such a dear little thing,
one hesitates to say so."

"She was very sweet to-night," interposed Anne. "She asked Ruth's
forgiveness and took the blame for their little coolness on her own
shoulders."

"I don't wish to cause dissension in this happy band, but we really must
stop talking and study," warned Grace. "I haven't made a satisfactory
recitation this week, and I vote for reform."

"All right, my dear Miss Harlowe," flung back Miriam. "'Work, for the
Night is Coming.'"

"You mean going," giggled Anne.

After this interchange of flippant remarks silence reigned, broken only
by the sound of turning leaves or an occasional sigh over the appalling
length of a lesson. The three girls were fully absorbed in their work
when Elfreda poked her head in the room to announce that the fudge was
made. "I've a bottle of cunning little pickles, and a box of cheese
wafers. I made some tea, too. Hurry, or it will be half-past ten before
we have time to eat a single thing."

"I can't possibly finish studying my Latin to-night," sighed Miriam.
"Every day the lessons seem to get longer. Miss Arthur hasn't a spark of
compassion."

"Don't stop to grumble," commanded Elfreda. "Come along."

The half-past ten o'clock bell rang before the fudge was half gone. In
fact, it was after eleven before the quartette prepared for sleep.
During the evening all thought of the troublesome theme had left Grace's
mind. It was not until after she had turned out the light and gone to
bed that it came back to her with such disagreeable force that for the
time being all idea of sleep fled. For the first time since her entrance
into Overton College she had incurred the displeasure of one in
authority over her, and through no fault of her own.

As Grace lay staring into the darkness the recollection of that bitter
time during her junior year at high school, when Miss Thompson had
accused her of shielding the girl who had destroyed the principal's
personal papers, came back, vivid and complete. Eleanor Savelli, now
numbered among her dearest friends and a member of the Phi Sigma Tau,
had been the transgre