eyes from one schoolmate to another, as the girls assembled in the
locker room of the Oakdale High School.

"Her name is Pierson; that is all I know about her," replied Nora
O'Malley, gazing at her pretty Irish face in the looking glass with
secret satisfaction. "She's very quiet and shy and looks as if she would
weep aloud when her turn comes to recite, but I'm sure she's all right,"
she added good naturedly. For Nora had a charming, sunny nature, and
always saw the best if there was any best to see.

"She is very bright," broke in Grace Harlowe decisively. "She went
through her Latin lesson without a mistake, which is certainly more than
I could do."

"Well, I don't like her," pouted Miriam. "I never trust those quiet
little things. And, besides, she is the worst-dressed girl in----"

"Hush!" interrupted Jessica Bright, touching a finger to her lips. "Here
she is."

A little, brown figure entered the room just as Miriam finished
speaking. But Jessica was too late with her warning. The young girl had,
without doubt, heard the cruel speech and her face flushed painfully as
she pinned on a shabby old hat, slipped her arms into a thin black
jacket and stepped out again without looking at the crowd of schoolmates
who watched her silently.

"Miriam, I should think you'd learn to be more careful," exclaimed
hot-tempered Nora, her soft heart touched by the appealing little
stranger.

"Well, what difference does it make?" replied Miriam. "If Miss Pierson
doesn't know already that she's the shabbiest girl in school, it's high
time she found it out. I have a suspicion her mother takes in washing or
something, and I mean to find it out right now. We can't invite a girl
like that to our class parties and entertainments. She would disgrace
us."

"Miriam," said Grace quietly, "I believe we are all privileged to invite
whom we please to our homes. I intend to give a class tea next Saturday,
and I mean to follow Miss Pierson right now and ask her to help me
receive."

The two girls looked into each other's faces for a moment without
speaking. Grace was quiet and contained, Miriam flushed and furiously
angry. They had been rival leaders always at the Grammar School, but the
rivalry had never come to open battle until now.

Miriam was the first to drop her eyes. She did not reply, but from that
moment she was the sworn enemy of Grace Harlowe and her two friends,
Nora and Jessica.

"Well, we had better hurry," said Jessica