he office where
Grace sat idly turning the leaves of a magazine.

"Sit down, Miss Brent," invited Grace. Then in her usual direct fashion,
"I am ready to listen to anything you wish to say."

Jean Brent flushed, then the color receded from her fair skin, leaving
her very pale. In a low tone she began a recital that caused Grace
Harlowe's eyes to become riveted on her in intense surprise, mingled
with consternation. An expression of lively sympathy sprang into her
face, however, as the story proceeded, and when Jean had finished with a
half sob, Grace stretched out her hands impulsively with, "You poor
little girl."

Jean clasped the outstretched hands and murmured, "You don't blame me so
much, then, do you, Miss Harlowe?"

"No, I can't," Grace made honest answer, "but I am so sorry that you did
not come to me with this in the beginning. I could have helped you
arrange your affairs nicely. You could have borrowed money from the
Semper Fidelis Fund and later, if you were desirous of selling your
wardrobe you could have disposed of it in New York City for fully as
much as you have received for it here. A dear friend of mine in New York
who is an actress has often told me that the women of the various
theatrical companies who play minor parts are only too glad to purchase
attractive wearing apparel which society women sell after one wearing."

"I didn't know. I am sorry I didn't tell you long ago." Jean was
thoroughly penitent. "Will it make so very much difference now?"

"I hope not. It is hard to say. Unfortunately the news of the sale has
reached the ears of several members of the faculty. Not only you, but I,
as well, have been criticized. We can do nothing except wait for the
gossip about it to die a natural death." Grace's quiet acceptance of the
unpleasantness which Jean's rash act had forced upon her stung the
freshman far more sharply than reproof.

"I can go to the dean and tell her what I have told you," faltered Jean.

Grace shook her head. "No, I should not advise it. This affair belongs
entirely to Harlowe House and should be settled here. I will write to
Miss Lipton to-night. If Miss Wilder were here I should not hesitate to
place matters before her, but I am not so sure of Miss Wharton, the
woman who is filling Miss Wilder's position. For the present, at least,
silence will be best. If Miss Wharton hears of it and sends for you,
then you had better be frank and conceal nothing."

"Do you mean that