her
regard, came the one-time stout girl, now merely plump and extremely
attractive.

Tears flashed across J. Elfreda's eyes as she stood looking into the
faces of these friends, whom she loved so truly, yet saw so seldom.
"Missing people has been my greatest cross this year," she said, her
voice not quite steady. "There's no use in making a fuss, though. I'm
beginning to learn that."

A brief silence fell upon the three classmates.

"Have you had your breakfast, Elfreda?" asked Grace, almost abruptly.

"Are there waffles?" counter-questioned Elfreda.

"There can be. The Harlowe House kitchen boasts of waffle irons, bought
with this occasion in view."

"Then I am heart and soul for breakfast," avowed Elfreda. "I ate my
usual sumptuous repast of half a grape fruit and a piece of dry toast,
plus one small cup of black coffee, on the train. I haven't had a waffle
since I was here in August. I wonder how they would taste," she added
innocently.

"You'll know before long," promised Grace. "Emma take Elfreda upstairs
to our room, while I ask Sarah to make the waffles."

Half an hour later they sat around the breakfast table, a contented
trio. After Emma had left them to go to her work, Grace and Elfreda had
a long confidential conversation over their coffee. The noon train
brought Mabel Ashe, Arline and Ruth, while from off the afternoon trains
stepped Anne and Miriam, the smiling Emerson twins, Elizabeth Wade,
Marian Cummings and Elsie Wilton.

It was a congenial and talkative company that, as Elfreda's guests,
graced Vinton's at six o'clock dinner that night. Kathleen West, who had
been prevailed upon to spend at least one Thanksgiving at Overton,
instead of on duty on her paper, was one of three guests of honor, Mabel
Ashe and Patience Eliot were the others. By special arrangement a table
that would seat fifteen persons had been set in their favorite
rendezvous, the mission alcove. Elfreda, Grace, Anne and Miriam,
rejoicing in their reunion, had made a tour of the stores together that
afternoon, and gleefully carrying the fruits of their shopping to
Vinton's had decorated the table with flowers, ribbons and funny little
favors.

The Overton girls that happened to drop into Vinton's that night smiled
appreciatively at the gay little company in the alcove. A glance in that
direction on the part of the upper class girls was sufficient. They knew
that Semper Fidelis, the darling of the Overton clubs, was making me