come in, and says, "Give my love to Jerrie."

'P.S. No. 2.--Dick St. Claire and Fred Raymond are here, and both
send their regards.

'P.S. No. 3.--If you will believe me, Billy Peterkin is here,
nibbling his little cane, and says, "Present my compliments to Miss
Crawford."

'Just think of it. Five, or, rather, four young men--for Tom don't
count--for me to entertain. But I can do it, and rather like it,
too, though they all tire me, except Harold.'

Jerrie read this letter, which was received a few days before
commencement, two or three times, and each time she read it, the little
ache in her heart kept growing larger, until at last it was actual pain,
and covering her face with her hands, she cried like a child.

'It is Maude I am crying for,' she kept saying to herself. 'I know she
is worse than they have told me. She is going to die, and I am mean to
grudge her Harold's love, if that will make her happier. Why does she go
to the cottage so often, I wonder? Is it to see him? He would not like
me to do that. He was chagrined when I kissed him at Harvard. But, then,
he does not love me, and he does Maude; but he _must_ see me graduate.
I'll write and tell him so. That, surely, will not be "throwing myself
at his head;"' and seizing her pen, Jerrie wrote, rapidly and excitedly:

'DEAR HAROLD: I have just heard from Maude, who says there is a
possibility that you will not come to Vassar; but I shall be so
disappointed if you do not. I would rather have you here than all
the wise old heads in the State. So come without fail, no matter
what you are doing. I can't imagine anything which should keep you.
Tell grandma I am longing to be home, and keep thinking just how
cool and nice the kitchen looks, with the hop-vine over the door;
but she will I have to raise the roof soon, for I do believe I've
grown an inch since last winter and am in danger of knocking my
brains out in those low rooms.

'Good-bye till I see you.

'JERRIE.'

CHAPTER XXVII.

'HE COMETH NOT,' SHE SAID.

The _she_ was Jerrie, who, the night before commencement, was shaking
hands with Dick St. Claire, Fred Raymond, Tom Tracy, and Billy Peterkin,
all of whom had arrived on the evening train, and after dinner had come
to pay their respects to the young ladies from Shannondale. The _he_ way
Harold, for whom Jerrie asked at once.

'Where is Harold? Is he coming