d hall. Knowing that she was quite likely to find
Emma in her room she hurried up the stairs. Her hand was on the door
knob when she heard what sounded suspiciously like a sob. Grace flung
open the door and rushed into her room, her face alive with concern.
What could possibly have happened to make jolly, self-reliant Emma Dean
cry? She exclaimed in quick surprise, however, for, other than herself,
the room held no occupant. "I'm sure I heard some one crying," she
murmured. She listened intently. A moment later the same doleful sound
was again borne to her ears. Walking quickly into the bathroom she stood
by the door that opened into Evelyn Ward's room.

"It comes from Miss Ward's room," was her second surmisal. "I wonder
what I ought to do. She is so easily offended that, if I go to her, she
may resent my call and think me meddlesome and interfering." Grace
continued to listen uneasily to the unmistakable sounds of grief that
came from the next room.

"Something serious has certainly happened. I can't stand it to hear her
cry so. I'll take the risk of being misunderstood," she decided with a
grim little smile.

Stepping out of her room into the hall she knocked softly on Evelyn's
door, receiving no answer. Her second and rather more emphatic knock
elicited a faint, "Who is there?"

"Miss Harlowe," answered Grace. "May I come in for a moment, Miss Ward?"

She heard Evelyn moving about the room for a moment, then the door was
opened slowly, and with apparent reluctance on the part of the pretty
freshman, who had evidently dried her tears for the time being.

"How do you do, Miss Harlowe?" she said in a queer, strained voice. "I
did not know that you had returned from your vacation." She did not
offer her hand to Grace. In her blue eyes lay a look of positive fear.

"I came in not more than ten minutes ago," returned Grace, stepping into
the room and closing the door after her. Then with her usual directness
she said, "Miss Ward, I heard you crying. I came to see if I could help
you."

The look of fear in Evelyn's eyes deepened. She continued to regard
Grace intently, as though trying to discover whether there could be any
other motive for her visit. In spite of the effort she was making to be
natural her face expressed absolute consternation.

"It--was--nothing," she stammered, at last. "I am not feeling very
well."

Grace was not deceived. She knew that Evelyn was not the kind of girl to
cry hysterically ove