l! What shall we have, and what do we do to
draw a crowd?"

"We held a bazaar in Oakdale that was very successful," commented Grace.
"We held it on Thanksgiving night and half the town attended it. We made
over five hundred dollars. I think a bazaar would be better than a
carnival." Grace did not add that the money had been stolen while the
bazaar was at its height and not recovered until the following spring,
by no other person than herself.

Those who have read "Grace Harlowe's Senior Year at High
School" will remember the mysterious disappearance of the bazaar
money and the untiring zeal with which Grace worked until she found a
clew to the robbery, which led to the astonishing discovery that she
made in an isolated house on the outskirts of Oakdale.

During the progress of the luncheon Grace gave Arline a detailed account
of the various attractions of which their bazaar had boasted.

"We can ask some girl who sings to preside at the Shamrock booth and
sing Irish songs as Nora O'Malley did," planned Grace. "We can't have
the Mystery Auction, because we don't care to ask the girls for
packages, and we can't have the Italian booth, either, it would be too
hard to arrange, but we can have a gypsy camp and a Japanese booth and
an English tea shop and two or three funny little shows. The best thing
to do is to call a meeting of the club and put the matter before them.
Almost every girl will know of some feature we can have."

"I suppose the dean will allow us to use the gymnasium," mused Arline.
"We had better get permission first of all. Then we can call our
meeting."

Grace looked at her watch. "I've stayed ten minutes over my hour,
Arline," she reminded the little curly-haired girl.

"Never mind," was the calm reply, "you can stay ten minutes longer in
the library. Oh, Grace, don't look at her now, but who is that girl just
sitting down at that end table? I am sure she lives at Wayne Hall. Some
one told me she was a freshman."

"If you had been calling faithfully on the Wayne Hall girls, you
wouldn't need to be told the names of the new ones," flung back Grace.
Then, allowing her gaze to slowly travel about the room, her eyes rested
as though by chance on the girl designated by Arline. An instant later
she had bowed to the newcomer in friendly fashion.

"Who is she?" murmured Arline, her eyes fixed upon Grace.

"Her name is Kathleen West," returned Grace in a low tone. "Don't say
anything more. Here she com