Elfreda and Miriam. Enter and make yourselves comfy. You and
Anne are to have the next one, Patience. My quarters are at the end of
the hall. I am going to see Grace safely there, then I'll send my maid
to you. She will be delighted to be of service to some one. I have
needed her very little since I turned newspaper woman, and she spends
the greater part of her time lamenting over the fact. Oh, I forgot to
tell you, don't trouble to dress for dinner to-night. We shall be
strictly informal. I have ordered an early dinner. We will dress
afterward. Father is going to take us to the theatre."

The mere mention of Mabel's father brought to Grace's mind that which
she had been making a determined effort to forget, her father's
displeasure. Her face clouded with pain and resentment as she thought of
the girl whose treachery had brought about the first misunderstanding of
her life between her and her father.

"If Father had only written me a line or sent me a telegram," she
thought sadly, winking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I must
not let Mabel imagine for a minute that I am anything but happy for
to-night, at least. If she knew how dreadfully I felt about Father it
would partly spoil her pleasure this evening. I'll try to act as though
nothing unpleasant had happened," decided Grace as she followed Mabel
into what she had termed her "quarters."

Grace could not refrain from giving a soft exclamation of delight as she
gazed admiringly about the beautiful room into which she was ushered.

"This is my own particular hanging-out place," laughed Mabel "When I am
at home, which is seldom, I spend most of my time in here. See my desk!
I'll tell you a secret, Grace. I am writing a novel. It's more than half
done, too. I haven't told any one else, not even Father. My greatest
trouble is not having the time to work on it. My newspaper work keeps me
busy, early and late, but I can't complain, because I am gaining all
sorts of valuable experience." Mabel talked on about her work, and as
Grace watched the sparkling, animated face of her lovely friend she felt
very sure that Mabel Ashe, at least, would never sacrifice a friend in
the interest of her paper.

CHAPTER XIV

A CONGENIAL SEXTETTE

As the five girls, escorted by Mabel, descended the broad stairs to the
hall, a tall, rather stern-faced man, whose dark hair had just a
sprinkling of gray at the temples, came forward from one end of the room
to meet them.