about coming."

"Did you mention that she changed it violently?" slyly put in Miriam.

"I did not," was the smiling assertion. "I don't like to think about it,
let alone mention it."

"Do you suppose she'll improve the opportunity and tell Anne's private
affairs all over college?" questioned Miriam.

"I don't know," said Grace briefly. "Let us put her out of our minds for
now. It won't do any good to worry about what she may or may not do.
When we go back to Overton we shall know."

That night the girls listened to the wonderful voice of the prima donna
whose name has become synonymous with that of "Chu Chu San," the little
Japanese maid. Anne wondered as she drank in the music whether this
beautiful young prima donna had ever had any scruples about appearing
before the public. Miriam was thinking that David would be bitterly
disappointed when he knew that Anne was going back to the stage during
vacation. While, though she would not have confessed it for worlds, the
throbbing undercurrent of heart break that ran through the music was
filling Grace with unmistakable homesickness. She wanted her mother and
she wanted her badly. What would she not give to feel her mother's dear
arms around her. When the curtain shut out the still form of the
Japanese girl and the prima donna received her usual ovation, the tears
that stood in Grace's eyes were not alone a tribute to the singer and
the tragic death of Chu Chu San.

* * * * *

On Saturday morning the girls went on another shopping expedition, and
in the afternoon attended a recital given by a celebrated pianist.
After the recital, instead of going home, Miss Southard surprised her
guests by taking them over to the theatre where her brother was playing.
Mr. Southard had arranged that they should be admitted to his dressing
room. It was the same theatre in which Anne had played the previous
winter and several of the stage hands recognized her and bowed
respectfully to her as she passed through to the actor's dressing room.
They found him still in costume. He never changed to street clothing on
matinee days.

"You are respectfully and cordially invited to eat dinner in my dressing
room," announced Mr. Southard the moment they were fairly inside the
door. "I have ordered dinner for six o'clock."

Eating dinner in a dressing room was an innovation as far as Grace and
Miriam were concerned, but to Anne it was nothing new. It had been in
t