ill everything is," commented Grace. "Not in the least
like it was six months ago, is it, Elfreda?"

"It gives me the blues," averred Elfreda in a low tone.

"Here we are," called Mrs. Gray, with a cheery attempt at dispelling the
tiny cloud of dejection that had fallen over the two girls. "Harlowe
House couldn't have a prettier site."

The three women followed Mr. Symes up the steps, then, as if by common
consent, turned and looked out over the green expanse of closely-clipped
lawn, sprinkled with sentinel-like old trees. They had stood guard year
after year and silently watched the comings and goings of the hundreds
of girls who proudly acknowledged Overton as their Alma Mater.

"What's the use of gazing and mooning?" asked Elfreda, with sudden
brusqueness. "Please open that door, Mr. Symes. I shall certainly weep
and wail disconsolately out of pure sentiment if you don't distract my
attention with something else. Show me the furniture, or the boxes it
came in, or anything else that won't call forth tender reminiscences."

Grace's laugh sounded a trifle shaky, but it was a laugh nevertheless.
Something in Elfreda's brusque tones acted as an antidote to her
retrospection. She had been more or less ghost-ridden ever since her
return to Overton. She now resolved to shake off that pleasantly
melancholy sensation and "be up and doing with a heart for any fate."

The caretaker admitted them to a hall crowded with huge packing boxes.
In fact, the whole of the first floor was occupied by the large
shipments of furniture recently delivered into the care of Mr. Symes.

"It's worse than the cottage," announced Elfreda; "a regular howling
wilderness. I'd like to know how we can possibly guess what's what and
why. These boxes all look alike. If we have our minds set upon seeing
the parlor suite, we'll be sure to unpack the kitchen furniture
instead."

"We'll let the men wrestle with the unpacking, girls," decided Mrs.
Gray. "I don't wish my body guard to nurse wholesale bruises and smashed
fingers. Mr. Symes, can you have two men besides yourself here this
afternoon to unpack these things?"

"I certainly can, Mrs. Gray," promised Mr. Symes with respectful
promptness.

"Then we'll have to possess our souls in patience until to-morrow,"
sighed Grace. "Isn't this a lovely, roomy house, Elfreda? I'm so glad,
too, that there isn't a prim, stiff parlor. I like this immense
living-room much better. The girls will surely like i