re than I can say," replied Grace briefly. The haunting
shadow lurked for an instant in her gray eyes, then she began to talk
with forced vivacity of the coming revue.

But one pair of keen eyes had seen that shadow, and that pair of eyes
belonged to J. Elfreda Briggs. "I wonder what ails Grace?" was her
thought, "It's something about Miss Wilder's not being here, I'm pretty
certain." She resolved to make inquiries concerning the new dean and
made an excuse to accompany Emma across the campus after luncheon,
leaving Arline and Grace together.

"What's the matter with Grace?" was her abrupt question the instant they
had left Harlowe House behind them. "I could see that she wasn't quite
her old self at luncheon to-day."

"I believe you 'could see' in the dark or with your eyes shut or even if
you had no eyes," teased Emma.

"Then there _is_ something bothering her," said Elfreda triumphantly. "I
knew it."

"Yes, there is. I wish I might tell you," returned Emma slowly, "but I
am in Grace's confidence. It wouldn't be a bad idea for you to ask her,
though. If she would tell you, you might be able to suggest something
helpful. I'll just say this much. It's very serious."

"All right, I'll ask her. If she tells me, I'll talk things over with
you afterward. If she doesn't, then forget that I asked you about it."

It was not until late that afternoon that she found her opportunity to
question Grace. Arline had left her to make a call upon Myra Stone, now
a senior, and Elfreda and Grace sat side by side on Grace's favorite
bench that stood under the giant elm at one end of the campus.

"Grace," Elfreda's matter-of-fact tones broke a brief silence that had
fallen upon the two young women. "What has happened to hurt you?"

Grace started slightly. Her color receded, leaving her very pale. Then
she said simply, "I suppose you 'could see,' Elfreda."

"Yes; I've been 'seeing' ever since I came. I wish you would tell me
about it. Perhaps I can help you."

Grace shook her head. "No one can help me. I'll just say this. Don't be
surprised at anything you may hear a little later. But please remember
one thing, Elfreda. Whatever I have done since I became the manager of
Harlowe House I have done always with the highest interests of my girls
at heart."

"I guess we all know that," retorted Elfreda. "I'll remember what you
say, though. I'm sorry I can't help you. You didn't mind my asking, did
you?"

"You know I didn't. It was