rceptions of a coal shoveler. I'm just waiting for these
simple truths to dawn upon the intellects of our august Board. I
understand that cadaverous-looking man with the wall eyes and the
spade-shaped, beard, who walks about as though he cherished a grudge
against the human race, and rejoices in the euphonious name of Darius
Dutton, is responsible for this crime against Overton. He recommended
her appointment to the Board. It seems that he is Miss Wharton's
cousin. Thank goodness he isn't mine, or Miss Wharton either."

Grace laughed at Emma's sweeping denunciation of Miss Wharton and the
offending Daniel Dutton. Then her face grew sober. "You mustn't allow my
grievances to imbitter you, Emma, toward any member of the Board."

"Oh, my only grudge against Darius D. so far is his having such
detestable relatives and foisting them upon an innocent, trusting
college," retorted Emma with spirit, "but my grudge against Miss Wharton
is a very different matter. It's an active, lively grudge. I'd like to
write to Miss Wilder and Mrs. Gray, and interview Dr. Morton, and then
see what happened. It would not be Grace Harlowe who resigned; but it
might be a certain hateful person whose name begins with W. I won't say
her name outright. Possibly you'll be able to guess it."

Grace's hand found Emma's in the dark as they came to the steps of
Harlowe House. The two girls paused for an instant. Their hands clung
loyally. "Remember, Emma, you've promised to let me have my own way in
this," reminded Grace wistfully.

"I'll keep my promise," answered Emma, but her voice sounded husky.

"I know," continued Grace, "that Miss Wharton's attitude toward me is
one of personal prejudice. From the moment she saw me she disliked me. I
know of only one other similar case. When Anne Pierson and I were
freshmen in Oakdale High School we recited algebra to a teacher named
Miss Leece, who behaved toward Anne in precisely the same way that Miss
Wharton has behaved toward me, simply because she disliked her. But come
on, old comrade, we mustn't stand out here all night with the wind
howling in our ears. Let us try and forget our troubles. What is to be,
will be. I am nothing, if not a fatalist." Grace forced herself to smile
with her usual brightness, and the two girls entered the house arm in
arm, each endeavoring, for the sake of the other to stifle her
unhappiness.

It was not yet ten o'clock and the lights were still burning in the
living room.