gh money to defray her college
expenses grew less.

"I'm afraid I'll have to give it all up for next year at least, Grace,"
Anne's voice trembled a little. "But perhaps I can enter the year after.
I can't give up the idea of being in the same college with you."

"Don't give up yet, dear," Grace pressed Anne's hand. "Maybe the
unexpected will happen."

The girls separated at the corner and went their separate ways, Anne
with the conviction that there was no use in wishing for the impossible
and Grace deploring the fact that Anne was too proud to accept any help
from her friends.

As Grace was about to curl herself up in a big chair before the fire
that night with "Richard Carvel" in one hand and a box of peanut brittle
in the other, she was startled by a loud ringing of the bell. Going to
the door she beheld Anne who was fairly wriggling with excitement. Her
cheeks were flushed and her dark eyes were like stars.

"Oh, Grace," she cried. "The unexpected has happened!"

"What are you talking about, Anne?" exclaimed Grace laughing. "Stop
dancing up and down out there. Come in and explain yourself. That is if
you can stand still long enough to do it."

"I have had the surprise of my life to-night, Grace," said Anne, as she
entered the hall, while Grace unfastened her fur collar and pulled the
pins from her hat. "I just couldn't wait until to-morrow to tell you
about it. It's so wonderful I can't believe that it has happened to
insignificant me."

"I know just as much now as I did at first, and perhaps a trifle less,"
said Grace.

Then taking Anne by the shoulders she marched her into the sitting room,
shoved her into the easy-chair opposite her own and said, "Now, begin at
the beginning, and don't leave out any details."

"Well," said Anne, drawing a long breath, "when I reached home after
leaving you, I found a letter for me postmarked New York City. For an
instant I thought it was from my father, but the hand writing was not
his. I opened it, and who do you suppose it was from?"

"I don't know, and I'm a poor guesser, so tell me," responded Grace.

"It was from Mr. Everett Southard."

"No! Really?" cried Grace. "How nice of him to write to you."

"But I haven't told you the nicest part," continued Anne. "He wants me
to go to New York to play a six-weeks' engagement in his company."

"Anne Pierson, you don't mean it," ejaculated Grace in intense
astonishment.

"Grace Harlowe, I do mean it," retorted Anne