"There's really no one under the sun
Can blame you for what you might have done,"

paraphrased Emma briskly.

Grace giggled outright. "Poor Whittier," she sympathized.

"Don't pity him," objected Emma. "Pity me for what nearly happened to
me. The illustrious name of Dean came within a little of traveling about
Overton attached to a funny story, which I will now relate for your sole
edification. You remember that pile of themes I brought home on
Tuesday?"

Grace nodded.

"Well, I finished them last night and wrapped them up ready to take back
to the classroom to-day. They made a good-sized bundle, because I had
collected them from all my classes. This morning I was in a hurry, so I
picked up my bundle and ran. I always like to be in my classroom in good
season. But fate was against me, for I met Miss Dutton, that new
assistant in Greek, and she stopped me to ask me numerous questions, as
she is fain to do unless one sees her first, and from afar off enough
to suddenly change one's course and miss her. Consequently I marched
into my room to find my class assembled. I assumed a dignity which I
didn't feel, for I hate being late, and laid my bundle of themes on my
desk. Every eye was fixed reprovingly upon me. I had said so much
against straggling into class late, yet here I had committed that very
crime. I untied my bundle and was just going to open it when that
black-eyed Miss Atherton asked me a question. I answered the question,
my eyes on her, my fingers folding back the paper. I reached for my
themes and my hand closed over cloth instead of paper. A positive chill
went up and down my spine. I gave one horrified glance at the supposed
theme and poked it out of sight in a hurry. Another second and I would
have offered some one my white linen skirt in full view of my class.
Instead of themes I had brought my clean laundry to English IV."

"Oh, Emma!" gasped Grace mirthfully.

"You're not a bit sympathetic," declared Emma with pretended severity.

How Elfreda would love that tale. She would revel in the vision of Emma
Dean solemnly proffering her linen skirt to an unsuspecting class. "I
declare, Emma, you have driven away the blues."

"Have I?" inquired Emma with guileful innocence. It was precisely what
she had intended to do. "What is troubling you, Gracious?"

"I can't endure the thought of losing Miss Wilder. I went to see her
this morning and met Miss Wharton. I----"

"Don't like her," finished