e had wished to dispose of certain of her personal belongings to any
one girl I should have said unhesitatingly that it was her own affair,
but a general sale is a different matter. The eyes of the college are,
to a great extent, directed toward Harlowe House. It's position among
the other campus houses is unique. That the girls who live there are
given a home free of charge makes them doubly liable to criticism. They
must be worthy of their privileges."

Kathleen nodded in emphatic agreement. "Of course they must. I
understand fully your position in regard to them, Grace."

"You mean the girl we met that day at Vinton's, don't you?" inquired
Patience. "She had been robbed of her money in the train."

"Yes; she is the very girl."

"How do you reconcile her lack of means to pay her college expenses with
this wonderful wardrobe that Kathleen has just told us of?"

"I don't reconcile them. I can't. That is just the trouble." Grace
looked worried. "Speaking in strict confidence, I have really taken Miss
Brent on trust. I have asked her to explain certain things to me, and
she has refused to do so. On the other hand she is warmly championed by
the principal of one of the most select preparatory schools in the
country. Then, too, she assures me that at some future day she will
explain everything. Emma calls her the Riddle. It's an appropriate name,
too." Grace made a little despairing gesture.

"You are the greatest advocate of the motto, 'Live and let live' that I
have ever run across, Grace," smiled Patience, "but," her face grew
serious, "I believe you ought to insist on Miss Brent's full explanation
of her mysterious ways. If the news of this sale happens to reach
faculty ears _you_ are likely to be criticized for allowing it."

"But I didn't allow it," protested Grace. "I refused my consent to it."

"Yet you are the last one to defend yourself at another's expense,"
reminded Kathleen. "You'd rather be misjudged than to see this girl, who
hasn't even trusted you, placed in an unpleasant position."

Grace's color deepened. "I promised to trust her," she said at last. "At
first I felt just as you do about this. Then I talked with her. She
seemed honest and sincere. I decided that perhaps it would be better not
to force her confidence. Young girls are often likely to make mountains
of mole-hills. Still, Emma thinks just as you do," she added. "She
didn't at first, but she does now. I'm sure _she_ knows nothing of the