s room was dark.

"I wonder where the girls are!" Grace exclaimed. "I didn't know they
were to be away to-night, too. Perhaps they have gone for a walk." Grace
lighted the gas in her own room and, hanging up her hat, sat down in the
Morris chair, beside the table on which lay her books piled ready for
work. "If no one bothers me for the next hour and the girls obligingly
stay away, the rest will be easy," she smiled to herself as she worked
at her French.

At five minutes of ten she closed her text book on chemistry with a
triumphant bang. "Nothing left to do now but my theme and that can wait
until to-morrow night. I think I'll read until the girls come in." Grace
reached for her book, which lay on the table conveniently near her,
opened it at the place she had marked and began to read. She had not
read more than two or three pages when, through the half opened door,
came the sound of voices.

Grace's gray eyes opened in surprise as Miriam Nesbit walked into the
room followed by Mildred Taylor.

"I thought you would be here," greeted Miriam.

Grace rose and walked toward Mildred. Without the slightest show of
hesitation she held out her hand. "I am glad to see you, Mildred. Why
haven't you come in before?" she asked frankly.

Mildred looked from Miriam to Grace. "I can't tell you why!" she
exclaimed in a choked, frightened voice. "I thought I could, but I
can't." She began to cry softly.

Grace sprang to her side, and, placing her arm about the little girl's
waist, said soothingly, "Don't cry, and don't tell us anything you don't
wish to tell. I am so glad you came at all. The early part of the year I
thought we were going to be friends. I am sorry I hurt your feelings on
the night of the sophomore reception. I told you so then, but I am
afraid you thought I didn't mean what I said."

"It wasn't that," quavered Mildred, wiping her eyes. "It was--it was--I
had no business to take it. It was stealing!"

Miriam looked sharply at Mildred's distressed face, as though trying to
gain some inkling of what was to come. Grace's expression was one of
anxious concern. Neither girl spoke.

"I might as well tell you, Grace," went on Mildred in a low, shamed
voice. "I am the person who stole your theme. I found it at the foot of
the stairs. I did not look at the name written on it until I was in my
own room. I ought to have given it to you at once, but I stopped to read
it. It was so clever I wished I had written it. Them