w moments' conversation Grace said good night and went slowly
upstairs. In spite of her satisfaction at being back at Overton she
could not repress a sigh of regret over the recent unpleasantness.

"The unforeseen always happens," she reflected, pausing for a moment on
the top step. "I hope the Anarchist will 'stay put' this time." She
laughed softly at the idea of the Anarchist standing stiff and
stationary in her new room. Then the ridiculous side of the encounter
dawning on her, she sat down on the stairs and gave way to sudden silent
laughter.

"What did Mrs. Elwood say?" asked Anne as Grace entered the room.

"I am afraid Mrs. Elwood is not, and never will be, an admirer of the
Anarchist," said Grace. "Seriously speaking, she is half inclined to ask
her to leave Wayne Hall. She believes she will have further trouble with
her. Perhaps we should have waited. We might have tried, later, to gain
possession of our room," added Grace doubtfully.

Anne shook her head. "We would be waiting still, if we had attempted to
settle matters without Mrs. Elwood."

"But it seems too bad to begin one's sophomore year so unpleasantly. All
summer I had been planning how helpful I would try to be to entering
freshmen, and this is the way my splendid visions have materialized."
Grace eyed Anne rather dejectedly.

"Never mind," soothed Anne. "By to-morrow this little unpleasantness
will have completely blown over. Perhaps the Anarchist," Anne smiled
over the title Elfreda had bestowed upon the disturbing freshman, "will
discover that she can make friends more quickly by being pleasant. She
may reform over night. Stranger things have happened."

"But nothing of that sort will happen in her case," declared Grace. "You
said just a moment ago if it hadn't been for Mrs. Elwood we would still
be out in the hall clamoring for a room, didn't you!"

"I did," smiled Anne.

"That was equivalent to accusing the Anarchist of stubbornness, wasn't
it?"

"It was."

"Very well. If she is half as stubborn as I believe her to be, she won't
be different to-night, to-morrow or for a long time afterward."

CHAPTER IV

THE BELATED FRESHMAN

"The first thing I shall do this morning after breakfast is to unpack,"
announced Grace Harlowe with decision, as she gave her hair a last pat
preparatory to going downstairs to breakfast. "Last year I was so
excited over what studies I intended to take and meeting new girls that
I unpacked by fits