ir intention of competing for the honor pin,
while there were others whose themes had never been praised, whose
ambition to show the judges what they really could do urged them on to
enter the lists.

Neither Grace, Miriam nor Anne intended to try for the prize. Ruth
Denton had confided to Arline that she had an idea for a play which she
meant to work out, and Emma Dean boldly proclaimed herself to be deep in
the throes of a comedy called "Life at Wayne Hall; or, the Expressman's
Surprise." Elfreda, too, had apparently been inspired, and for a week
went about chuckling to herself and making mysterious notes in a little
black note book she now carried constantly.

Grace could not help wondering now and then if Kathleen West would enter
the contest. Since the newspaper girl's return from New York she had
kept strictly to herself. She spoke to Patience only when absolutely
necessary and took not the slightest notice of Miriam, Anne or Elfreda.
Patience confided to Grace that Kathleen studied harder than ever, and
wrote for at least two hours every night, never forgetting to place her
papers carefully in her desk and to lock it securely before going out or
to bed. "I believe she is writing a play, but I don't know positively
and I wouldn't dream of asking her," had been Patience's comment.

As the long intervening days that lay between the students of Overton
and "going home for Christmas" dragged by, Grace found herself more
impatient to see her father and mother than ever before. "It is on
account of that old newspaper trouble," she assured herself. "Father and
Mother were so dear and forgiving over it that I can't wait to see
them." All her thoughts were now centered on going home.

"I never wanted to see Father and Mother so much in all my life as I do
this Christmas. Next week seems ages off. I am sure it is seven years
instead of seven days until vacation begins." She confided to Anne one
evening, as she sat on the floor beside her open trunk: "I'm going to
begin packing to-night and do a little each day. It will give me a
certain amount of satisfaction and make the time pass more quickly. I
wonder why Mother doesn't write? She hasn't sent me my check to go home
with yet. I can't go home until it comes, for I have spent every cent of
my allowance and my extra check, too, for Christmas presents."

"Don't worry over it," advised Anne. "Your father and mother are the
most infallible persons I know. You won't be left