igorous push. "I simply won't tolerate her rudeness.
She is an unmitigated snob!" Grace knocked on the door rather sharply to
emphasize her feelings. It was opened almost immediately by Miss Pierson
herself, still in her hat and coat; and in her surprise and
embarrassment she almost shut the door in their faces. But Jessica's
gentle smile reassured her, and Grace, who was a born leader, took her
hand kindly and plunged at once into the subject.

"You left school so quickly this afternoon, Miss Pierson, that I didn't
have a chance to see you. I have something very particular I want to ask
you to-day."

"Won't you come in?" said the other, opening the door into the parlor,
which had an air of refinement about it in spite of its utter poorness.

"Anne!" called a querulous voice down the passage.

"Yes, mother, I'm coming," answered the girl, hurrying out of the room
with a frightened look in her eyes. In a few moments she was back again.

"Please excuse me for leaving you," she said. "My mother is an invalid
and needs my sister or me with her constantly."

"Her name is Anne, then," thought Grace. "I shall call her so at once
and break the ice."

"Anne," she said aloud, "I think you know my friends, don't you--Jessica
Bright and Nora O'Malley? And I am Grace Harlowe."

"Oh, yes," replied Anne, brightening at the friendly advances of the
others. "I remember your names from the roll call."

"Of course," replied Grace. "But I think we should all be more to each
other than roll-call acquaintances, we freshmen. I am very ambitious for
our class. I want it to be the best that ever graduated from Oakdale
High School, and for that reason, I think all the girls in it should try
to be friends and work together to advance the cause. I'm going to start
the ball rolling by giving a tea to our class next Saturday afternoon.
Will you come and receive with Jessica and Nora and me?"

Anne clasped her hands delightedly for a moment. Then her eyes filled
with tears and her lips trembled so that the girls were afraid she might
be going to cry. Tender-hearted Jessica turned her face away for fear of
showing too much sympathy.

"I'm sorry," said Anne at last, rather unsteadily, "but I am afraid I
can't accept your delightful invitation. I----"

"I beg your pardon," said a voice at the door, "I didn't mean to intrude
on your visitors, Anne, but I couldn't help overhearing Miss Harlowe's
invitation."

A small woman, much older than