s almost dinner time. Good evening,
Miss Sheldon."

Once outside Overton Hall her composure took wings and she brushed the
thick-gathering tears from her eyes as she hurried blindly across the
snow-covered campus in the gray twilight. She was still smarting under
the hurt of the registrar's sharp words. It was unspeakably humiliating
to be told that she had overstepped her authority. She had thought that
Miss Sheldon knew her too well for that. It merely served to show how
little one knew persons, she reflected bitterly. As for Evelyn, the
angry color dyed Grace's cheeks afresh as she thought of the girl's
treachery, and she made a resentful vow that Evelyn Ward should not be
admitted to Harlowe House for her sophomore year.

The brisk walk across the campus in the crisp winter air cooled her
anger, and by the time she had reached the house she felt her
resentment, in a measure, vanishing.

"You were right, Emma," she announced as she walked into their room
where Emma sat plodding laboriously through her weekly mending.

"About Evelyn?"

"Yes."

Emma finished the sleeve of the blouse she was mending with a flourish.
Then, casting a swift, upward glance at Grace, she began singing
dolorously.

"Mend, mend, mend,
On the waist that's weary and worn.
Stitch, stitch, stitch,
Each tatter so jagged and torn.
Collar and cuffs and sleeves,
Cobble and darn and baste,
Before they gape in a ghastly row,
And shriek the dirge of the waist."

Grace's gloomy expression changed to a faint smile which broadened as
Emma's chant went on. At the end of the verse she laughed outright.

"I couldn't be sad for long with you about, Emma," she said
affectionately. "How can you think of such funny things on the spur of
the moment?"

"Oh, I don't know," drawled Emma. "Tell me about everything, Gracious."

"I will," nodded Grace, "but I must run downstairs to the kitchen for a
minute. I'll be back directly."

It was fifteen minutes before she returned. Emma had finished her
mending and was on her knees before the chiffonier putting her waists
away.

"Now I'll tell you," began Grace.

Emma turned her head to listen, but before Grace had time to begin the
door was flung violently open and Evelyn Ward rushed in, her blue eyes
bright with anger. "How could you tell Miss Sheldon that I didn't go to
New York with you? You could have helped me and she wouldn't have said a
word to Miss W