I'll have to go."

"You funny, funny girl!" exclaimed Mabel Ashe. "What a treasure you'll
be when we give college entertainments. You'll make the Dramatic Club
some day."

"Nothing like it," returned Elfreda, resorting to slang in her
embarrassment.

"Where did you ever learn to mimic people so cleverly?" asked one
sophomore.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Elfreda almost rudely. "I've imitated folks
ever since I was a kid--little girl," she corrected. "You said you'd
waltz with me to-night, Miriam, so come on. That's a Strauss waltz, and
I don't want to miss it. Please excuse me," she said, turning to the
assembled girls. She was making a desperate effort to be polite when she
preferred to be rude.

"Mabel Ashe, you're the dearest girl," Grace burst forth as the little
crowd dissolved and strolled off in different directions. "You have been
lovely to Elfreda, and instead of her evening being spoiled, you know
what I mean, she has actually made a sensation."

"I am not the only one who has been looking out for J. Elfreda's
interests," reminded Mabel. "I am glad that she has this talent. It will
help her to make friends with the girls, and if nothing more is said
about the registrar affair she will soon have a following of her own."

"Do you think anything more will be said?" asked Grace anxiously.

"Not if I can help it," was the response.

It was almost midnight when, after seeing Ruth Denton home, the four
girls climbed the steps of Wayne Hall.

"It was lovely, wasn't it, Anne?" declared Grace as she slipped into her
kimono and began taking the pins from her hair.

"Yes," said Anne with a half sigh. She was deliberating as to whether
she had better tell Grace a disturbing bit of conversation she had
overheard. After all it wasn't worth repeating. She had simply heard one
freshman say to another that she had been prepared to like Miss Harlowe,
but something she had heard had caused her to change her mind. Anne
suspected that in some way Elfreda's troubles had been shifted to
Grace's shoulders.

CHAPTER IX

DISAGREEABLE NEWS

"Hurrah!" cried Miriam Nesbit gleefully, coming into the living room of
Wayne Hall where Grace sat at the old-fashioned library table absorbed
in writing a theme for next day's composition class.

"What's happened?" asked Grace curiously, looking up from her writing.

"We're to go over to Exeter Field to-morrow for a try out in basketball.
I do hope we'll both make the te