ce. Evelyn did not
enter the dining-room until after the others had began their meal.
Despite the air of careless indifference with which she took her seat,
Grace fancied she saw a gleam of anxiety in her eyes. From the few words
she had overheard she understood not only the meaning of Mary's
dejection, but also of Evelyn's anxious look. But what was it that
Evelyn had required of Mary and that Mary had bluntly refused to do?
Suppose Evelyn had involved herself in some fresh difficulty. To Grace
the thought was distinctly disturbing. Still she felt that it was not
within her province to interfere. After all it might be nothing of vital
importance, merely a girls' disagreement.

Resolutely dismissing the matter from her mind, Grace thought no more of
it. That evening Evelyn came to her as she sat reading in the living
room and, in her most distant manner, notified Grace that she intended
to go to the dance to be given by the Gamma Kappa Phi, a Willston
fraternity, at their fraternity house. Miss Hilton, a member of the
Overton faculty, would chaperon her. There were four other freshmen
besides herself invited.

Grace made no objection to Evelyn's announcement. After the severe
reprimand she had received it was hardly probable that Evelyn would
again misrepresent matters. Quite by accident the next day she
encountered Miss Hilton upon the campus, and the teacher confirmed
Evelyn's story by mentioning the dance and inquiring if Grace had been
asked to do chaperon duty. "I am surprised that you weren't," had been
Miss Hilton's comment when Grace answered that her services had not been
solicited.

Grace had smiled to herself as she went on her way. She was not in the
least surprised at not being invited by Evelyn to play chaperon. She was
glad that she had not been asked. She decided that she would not have
accepted. The dance was to be held on the Friday evening of the
following week, and on the Saturday morning after she would be on her
way to Oakdale.

How long and yet how short the days seemed that lay between her and
home. Long because of her impatience to see her father and mother, short
because of the multifold details to be attended to in Harlowe House.

"I'm so tired," she sighed when, at seven o'clock on Friday evening, she
saw her trunk and Emma's safely in the hands of the expressman. "Thank
goodness our packing is done and gone and out of the way. Let's do
recreation stunts to-night, Emma. Suppose we call