ossession, she had but one thought.
That thought was to leave Harlowe House before Grace realized the full
meaning of her guilt. For two days Evelyn's suit case had been packed
for just such an emergency. She had not been sure that she could stem
the tide of retribution that had set in against her, so she was prepared
to slip away if she failed to obtain the letters that meant her undoing.
Hardly had Grace reseated herself in her office when Evelyn, suit case
in hand, her hat on, the coat to her suit thrown over her arm, stole
stealthily down the stairs and let herself out of the house without a
sound. Once clear of the house she set off across the campus, almost at
a run, in the direction of the station. At four o 'clock there was a
train to New York. She had a little money. She would go there. Once
there she would try to get into a theatrical company.

Arrived at the station she glanced fearfully about her. She did not wish
to meet any one she knew. Leaving her suit case in charge of the station
master she left the station and walked slowly up the street. She would
stroll about until almost train time. She had over an hour's wait. If
she encountered any of the students she knew on the street they would
attach no importance to seeing her.

It was five minutes to four when she purchased her ticket to New York.
To her relief she had seen no one she knew. When the train pulled into
the station she was the first person to board it. She took a seat on the
side of the car farthest from the platform, so she did not see a slim
hurrying girl's figure rush madly down the platform, just as the train
was about to start, and swing herself up the car steps on the last
second, heedless of the warning expostulation of the porter.

Torn with remorse for the past, fearful of the future, which, to her
overwrought imagination, crouched like a huge black monster ready to
spring upon her and engulf her in its cruel jaws, Evelyn watched the
swiftly passing landscape with unseeing eyes. When a voice from the seat
behind her suddenly addressed her with, "Good evening, Miss Ward," she
half sprang to her feet in blind terror. Turning, she found herself
looking into the keen, dark eyes of Kathleen West, the newspaper girl.

"Oh--good evening," she faltered.

"Going to New York?" was the brisk question.

Evelyn nodded.

"I'm coming into your seat. I hate riding alone in a train. I'm so glad
you are going the whole way."

Evelyn made no re