ven you the grape juice,
at any rate."

By half-past ten nothing remained of the feast but the grape juice, and
the guests began clamoring insistently for that.

"We are breaking the ten-thirty rule into microscopic pieces," declared
Elfreda as she dropped slices of orange and pineapple on the ice in the
bottom of the glasses, added orange juice, sugar and grape juice. "If it
isn't sweet enough, help yourself to sugar. The bowl is on the table.
And you can only have one straw apiece. The commissary department is
short on straws. A word of warning, don't drink the toast to Ruth's
father through a straw," she ended with a giggle.

The giggle proved infectious and went the round of the table. Grace was
the first to remember the toast to be drunk. Elfreda had just poured the
sixth, her own glass of grape juice, and slipped into her place at the
table. Rising to her feet Grace said simply, "To Ruth's father. May she
see him soon." The toast was drunk standing. Ruth still looked rather
dazed. She could not yet think of her father as a reality.

"I thank you all," she said tremulously, her eyes misty. "Of course you
know I am not quite certain of my great happiness, but I am going to
write to Father to-morrow, and perhaps before long I'll have a letter to
show you."

"If Ruth is to be surprised now, some one will have to get up early in
the morning," declared Elfreda with satisfaction, as she collected the
dishes for washing after the guests had departed.

"And that some one will be doomed to feel foolish," added Miriam.

CHAPTER XX

ELFREDA REALIZES HER AMBITION

Midyears, a season of terror to freshmen, a still alarming period to
sophomores, but no very great bugbear to the two upper classes, came and
went. During that strenuous week the usual amount of midnight oil was
burnt, the usual amount of feverish reviewing done, and the usual amount
of celebrating indulged in when the ordeal was passed.

"Don't forget the game to-morrow," said J. Elfreda Briggs to the girls
at her end of the breakfast table one morning in early March. "The only
one this year in which the celebrated center, Miss Josephine Elfreda
Briggs, will take part. Sounds like a grand opera announcement, doesn't
it? Maybe it hasn't taken endless energy to keep that team together and
up to the mark. But our captain is a hustler and we are marvels," she
added modestly.

"I need no bard to sing my praises," began Miriam mischievously.

"I did