she walked back to the runabout, climbed in and
drove down the road like the wind, apparently indifferent as to what
comment her heartless behavior might create.

"Who on earth is that girl?" inquired Reddy Brooks. "She has about as
much sympathy as a stone."

"That is Eleanor Savell," replied Anne Pierson, "and she can be nice if
she wishes, but she doesn't like us very well. That's why she was so
hateful."

"So that's the famous Eleanor?" said Tom Gray in a low tone to
Grace. "Aunt Rose was telling me about her this morning at breakfast.
I supposed she was a great friend of yours."

"She was, but she isn't," returned Grace. "That's rather indefinite.
However, I'll tell you about it as we go back."

"She certainly can't complain as far as looks are concerned," said
Hippy. "She must have yards of blue ribbon that she won at baby shows
when but a mere infant."

"Attention, boys and girls," cried Grace. "Let us forget what has
happened and have just as good a time to-night as we can. We mustn't
spoil the party."

"I move that we give Grace Harlowe a special round of applause for being
a heroine," cried Hippy. "Hurrah!"

His example was quickly followed and the noise of the cheering brought
people to their doors to see what the excitement was about.

"Do stop," protested Grace. "People will begin asking all sorts of
questions."

"Don't interfere with our simple pleasures," expostulated Hippy. "Let us
howl in peace. High School yell next, please."

By the time the party had reached the center of the town where their
ways parted, the shadow cast by the near accident had almost
disappeared.

By eight o'clock that evening the last guest had arrived, and the
Harlowe's hospitable home was the scene of radiant good cheer. Mrs.
Gray, enthroned in a big chair in one corner of the drawing room, was in
her element, and the young folks vied with each other in doing her
homage. The sprightly old lady was never so happy as when surrounded by
young folks. She had a word or smile for each one, and the new girls who
had at first felt rather timid about meeting her, were soon entirely at
ease in her presence.

The greater part of the furniture had been removed from the big living
room and the floor had been crashed; while a string orchestra that made
a specialty of playing for parties had been hired for the pleasure of
those who cared to dance.

As dancing was the chief amusement at nearly all of the young people's
parti