At this juncture their talk ended. Their automobile had drawn up before
the Nesbits' home and David stood at the open door of the car to help
them out. During the few short hours that remained to Grace before time
for her train to Overton she and Anne had no further opportunity for
confidences.

* * * * *

It was twenty minutes past eleven o'clock that night when the train
reached Overton, and Grace was not sorry to end her long ride. It had
been an unusually lonely journey. For the first time in her experience
she had made it alone, and without speaking to a person on the train.
Then, too, the regret of parting with those she loved still weighed
heavily upon her. "I do hope Emma is awake" was her first thought as she
crossed the station yard and hailed the solitary taxicab that always met
the late New York train, lamenting inwardly that the lateness of the
hour and the weight of her luggage prevented her from walking home
through the crisp, frosty night, under the stars.

The vestibule light of Harlowe House shone out like a beacon across the
still white campus. Grace thrilled with an excess of love and pride at
sight of her beloved college home. How much it meant to her, and how
sweet it was to feel that her business of life consisted in being of
help to others. If she married Tom that meant selfish happiness for they
two alone, but as house mother she was of use to seventeen times two
persons. "The greatest good to the greatest number," she whispered, as
she slid her latchkey into the lock.

The living room was dark. The girls had long since gone to their rooms.
Grace's feet made no sound on the soft velvet carpet as she hurried up
the stairs. A gleam of yellow light from under her door showed that Emma
was indeed keeping vigil for her.

"Hooray, Gracious!" greeted Emma as the door closed behind her roommate.
She flung her long arms affectionately about Grace and kissed her. "Is
it four days or four weeks since I saw you off to New York and returned
to my humble cot to wrestle with the job of managing that worthy
aggregation known as the Harlowites?"

"I should say it was four hours," corrected Grace. "Not that I didn't
miss you, dear old comrade. We all missed you. Every last person wished
you had come with me, and sent you their best wishes. It was splendid to
spend Thanksgiving with Father and Mother, and to see Mrs. Gray and the
others. Did you receive my postcard? I wrote