isn't coming. She said to tell you it was impossible for her
to accept. I went to her room a few minutes after you left. I knocked
until I was tired but no one answered. So I went back to my room. After
a while I tried again and while I was standing at her door she came down
the hall with Miss Noble. I asked her to come into my room a minute and
told her."

"Funny she didn't give you any reason why she couldn't come," pondered
Jane with drawn brows.

"She looked as though she'd been crying," returned Ethel. "I thought
maybe she'd had bad news or something so I didn't urge her. She wasn't a
bit snippy. She just looked white and a little bit sad."

"I wonder if I ought to run up and see her."

Jane stared at Ethel, her eyes fall of active concern.

"Better wait until to-morrow," advised Ethel. "Whatever's the matter
with her, she may feel like being alone. You know how it is sometimes
with one."

"Yes, I know."

Jane knew only too well how it felt to be sought out by even her friends
when occasional black moods descended upon her.

"We may as well start," she said slowly. "As hostess I mustn't neglect
my guests. I'll surely make it a point to see Alicia in the morning."

Nevertheless as the bevy of light-hearted diners left Madison Hall and
strolled bare-headed in the sunset toward Rutherford Inn, a vague
uneasiness took hold of Jane. She regretted that she had not gone
upstairs to see Alicia. Nor did it leave her until after she had
reached the Inn, where for the time being the lively chatter of her
companions served to drive it from her mind.

CHAPTER XI

REJECTED CAVALIERS

One glaring result of Jane's dinner party was the ignoring of the
ten-thirty rule that night.

It was eight o'clock when the congenial diners finished an elaborate
dessert and strolled gaily out of the Inn. The beauty of the night
induced the will to loiter. Some one proposed a walk into Chesterford
and a visit to a moving-picture theatre.

When they emerged from it it was half-past nine, thus necessitating a
quick hike to the campus. Jane and Judith made port in their room at
exactly twenty-five minutes past ten.

Visions of unprepared lessons looming up large, they decided that for
once "lights out" should not be the order of things.

As a consequence of retiring at eleven-thirty, both overslept the next
morning and dashed wildly off to chapel without breakfast.

Occupied from then on with classes, it was not until sh