. I know you will not forget me. Who,
having once met me, could forget?"

Hippy folded his arms across his chest and looked languishingly at the
three girls.

A chorus of giggles from those grouped around the girls and derisive
groans from the boys greeted Hippy's sentimental speech.

Suddenly a long, shrill whistle was heard.

"That's your train, girls," said Mr. Harlowe, who with Mrs. Harlowe,
Mrs. Nesbit and Mary Pierson had drawn a little to one side while their
dear ones said their last farewells to their four boy friends. The
circle about the three girls closed in. The air resounded with
good-byes. The last kisses and handshakes were exchanged. Reckless
promises to send letters and postcards were made. Then, still
surrounded, Grace, Miriam and Anne made their way to the car steps and
into the train. Grace clung first to her mother then to her father. "How
can I do without you?" she said over and over again. Tears stood in her
gray eyes. She winked them back bravely. "I'm going to show both of you
just how much I appreciate going to college by doing my very best," she
whispered. Her father patted her reassuringly on the shoulder while her
mother gave her a last loving kiss.

"I know you will, dear child," she said affectionately. "Remember,
Grace," added her father, a suspicious mist in his own eyes, "you are
not to rush headlong into things. You are to do a great deal of looking
before you even make up your mind to leap."

"I'll remember, Father. Truly I will," responded Grace, her face
sobering.

"All aboard! All aboard!" shouted the conductor. Those who had entered
the train to say farewell left it hurriedly.

"Good-bye! Good-bye!" cried Grace, leaning out the car window.

From the platform as the train moved off, clear on the air, rose the
Oakdale High School yell.

"It's in honor of us," said Grace softly. "Dear old Oakdale. I wonder if
we can ever like college as well as we have high school."

CHAPTER II

J. ELFREDA INTRODUCES HERSELF.

For the first half hour the three girls were silent. Each sat wrapped in
her own thoughts, and those thoughts centered upon the dear ones left
behind. Anne, whose venture into the theatrical world had necessitated
her frequent absence from home, felt the wrench less than did Grace or
Miriam. Aside from their summer vacations they had never been away from
their mothers for any length of time. To Grace, as she watched the
landscape flit by, the thought o