we had
no thought of doing anything definite about the bazaar without first
obtaining proper permission to give it and to use the gymnasium as our
field of operation. In fact, Miss Thayer promised me on the afternoon of
the meeting that she would see you the following afternoon. She is the
president of the club. I haven't seen her since then." Grace paused,
looking worried.

"Miss Thayer has not been here," returned Miss Wilder kindly. "However,
your explanation is sufficient, Miss Harlowe. I am reasonably sure that
the writer of this letter has either misunderstood the situation, or has
been misinformed. To be candid, very little credence can be placed on
the information contained in an anonymous letter. In fact, my reason for
sending for you had to do with that, rather than the implied charge the
letter makes. I wish you to examine this handwriting," she touched the
letter which Grace still held in hand. "Do you recognize it?"

There was a slight interval of silence. Grace devoted herself to the
examination of the letter and the slip of paper. Then, handing it to the
dean, she said frankly: "I have no recollection of having seen this
handwriting before to-day."

The dean folded the letter, placed the list of names inside its folds
and returned it to the envelope. "This is the first anonymous letter
that has ever been brought to my notice," she said gravely. "I trust it
will be the last. It is hard to believe that a student of Overton would
resort to such petty spite, for that seems to be its keynote. It is
practically impossible, however, to find the writer among so many
girls."

Grace would have liked to say that this was not the first anonymous
letter that had been brought to her notice. The ghost of a disturbing,
unsigned note that had almost wrecked Elfreda's freshman happiness rose
and walked before her. Could it be possible that the same hand had
written the second note? Grace was startled at her own thought.

"May I see the note again, Miss Wilder?" she asked soberly. This time
she scrutinized the writing even more closely. There was something
familiar, yet unfamiliar, about the formation of the letters. Finally
she handed it back. "It is a mystery to me," she said, with a little
sigh. "I am so glad you understood about the bazaar."

Before the dean could reply the click of approaching heels was heard. A
moment later a light knock sounded on the door. At a nod from the dean,
Grace opened it, and stood fa