of her journey to New York, and it was only
when Miss Southard invited her to come to their home to live as soon as
college was over, in order that Mr. Southard might help her with her new
part, that the humiliating remembrance of her misdeeds returned to her
with sickening force.

"You must write to your sister, my dear, and explain everything," said
Miss Southard. "If you will give me her address I will write to her too.
That is one point on which Everett is most particular. He would not
encourage a young girl to enter upon the life of the stage without the
full consent of her parents or guardian."

When finally she and Kathleen had said good-bye to the Southards, who
had seen them to their train, and were settled for the long ride to
Overton, Evelyn faltered, "Kathleen, all the time I was with the
Southards I felt just like a traitor. Do you think I ought to have told
them everything? It's not fair to them to masquerade under false
colors."

Kathleen eyed her companion searchingly. Evelyn's conscience was no
longer sleeping. It was now wide awake and tormenting her.

"I'm glad you feel as you do about it, Evelyn," was her blunt rejoinder.
"It shows that you are on the right road. I don't believe it is
necessary for you to tell the Southards anything. Still there is another
person who must decide that."

"You mean Miss Harlowe?"

Kathleen nodded.

"I can't bear to face her." Evelyn's voice sank almost to a whisper.

"You are not the only one who has said that." There was a curiously
significant ring in Kathleen's voice that made Evelyn look at her in
mute inquiry.

"Let me tell you of another girl who had to face the same situation."
Kathleen began with her entrance into Overton as a freshman and told
Evelyn the story of her hatred of Grace and her betrayal of Grace's
trust, of how Elfreda had shown her the way to reparation and the
gaining of true college spirit, and of how she had tried in a small
measure to redeem the past by writing "Loyalheart" as a belated tribute
to Grace.

Evelyn listened with somber attentiveness. The past three days had
taught her more of life than had her entire eighteen years. She had
lately begun to see what college might mean to the girl who lived up to
its traditions. Until the moment of hearing Kathleen's story she had
felt that Grace Harlowe must despise her utterly. Now she fixed solemn
blue eyes on Kathleen. "Do you believe Miss Harlowe will ever forgive
me?" was her m