responsive chord in the heart of the obstinate freshman. The ready color
dyed her cheeks crimson. The hard, defiant light left her eyes.

"If only she would tell me now and have it over with," thought Grace,
noting the signs of softening on Jean's part. The girl appeared to be
considering Grace's proposal in the spirit in which it had been made.
Then, all in an instant, she changed. It was as though she had suddenly
recalled something disagreeable.

"There is really no use in waiting until after Thanksgiving for my
answer. I can't tell you. I suppose you will send me away because I
won't tell you, but if I did tell you, you would send me away just the
same. So you see it doesn't really make much difference. It was silly
in me to come here. I might have known better," she ended with a
mirthless smile.

Grace regarded Jean with growing annoyance. She had been offered a
chance to explain herself and she had refused it. True, Grace could also
refuse to allow her to remain a member of Harlowe House, but this she
did not wish to do. Her pride whispered to her that among the girls who
were enrolled as members of the household, made possible by Mrs. Gray's
generosity, there had been no failures. Jean Brent should not be the
first. She would bear with her a little longer.

"I repeat, Miss Brent," she said, "that I do not wish you to answer me
until after Thanksgiving. Then, if you decide, as I hope you will, to be
frank with me, I promise you that I will do my utmost to protect you."

Jean's only response was, "Good night, Miss Harlowe." Then she turned
and left the office.

Grace sat poking holes in an unoffending sheet of paper with her lead
pencil. She wondered what Jean Brent's secret could possibly be, and how
she could best reach this stubborn, self-centered freshman. And in her
wholehearted effort to be of service to the girl, who apparently needed
her help, she did not dream that she was laying the cornerstone of a
house of trouble for herself.

CHAPTER XI

THANKSGIVING WITH THE NESBITS

"I am sure I never before had so much to be thankful for!" was Grace
Harlowe's fervent declaration as she viewed with loving eyes the little
circle of friends of which she was the center.

It was Thanksgiving eve, and the Nesbits had gathered under their
hospitable roof a most congenial company to help them commemorate
America's first holiday. Mr. and Mrs. Harlowe, in