Grace Harlowes Second Year at Overton College | Page 5

young person's brother. She looks exactly like him."
"Stop talking about anarchists and talk about rooms," said Anne. "I
must find some place to put my luggage. Besides, time is flying.
Remember, we are to be at Vinton's at half-past six."

"I should say time was flying!" exclaimed Grace, casting a hurried
glance at her watch. "It's ten minutes to six now. It will take us fifteen
minutes to walk to Vinton's. That leaves twenty-five minutes in which
to get ready."
"There is no hope that the trunks will arrive in time for us to dress,"
said Miriam positively. "Come into our room and we'll wash the dust
from our hands and faces and do our hair over again."
"All right," agreed Grace, casting a longing glance at the closed door.
"We'll have to put our bags in your room, too. I don't wish to leave
them in the hall for unwary students to stumble over."
"Bring them along," returned Miriam. "No one shall accuse us of
inhospitality."
"I wish Mrs. Elwood were here." Grace looked worried. "We mustn't
stay at Vinton's later than half-past seven o'clock. There are so many
little things to be attended to, as well as the important question of our
room."
Arriving at Vinton's at exactly half-past six o'clock, they found Arline
Thayer and Ruth Denton waiting for them at a table on which were
covers laid for six.
"We've been waiting for ages!" exclaimed Arline.
"But you said half-past six, and it is only one minute past that now,"
reminded Grace, showing Arline her watch.
"Of course, you are on time," laughed the little girl. "I should have
explained that I'm hungry. That is why I speak in ages instead of
minutes."
"Your explanation is accepted," proclaimed Elfreda, screwing her face
into a startling resemblance to a fussy instructor in freshman
trigonometry and using his exact words.

The ready laughter proclaimed instant recognition of the unfortunate
professor.
"You can look like any one you choose, can't you, Elfreda?" said Arline
admiringly. "I think your imitations of people are wonderful."
"Nothing very startling about them," remarked the stout girl lightly. "I'd
give all my ability to make faces to be able to sing even 'America'
through once and keep on the key. I can't sing and never could. When I
was a little girl in school the teachers never would let me sing with the
rest of the children, because I led them all off the key. It was very nice
at the beginning of the term, and I sang with the other children
anywhere from once to half a dozen times, never longer than that. I had
the strongest voice in the room and whatever note I sang the rest of the
children sang. It was dreadful," finished Elfreda reminiscently.
"It must have been," agreed Miriam Nesbit. "Can you remember how
you looked when you were little, Elfreda?"
"I don't have to tax my brain to remember," answered Elfreda. "Ma has
photographs of me at every age from six months up to date. To satisfy
your curiosity, however," her face hardened until it took on the stony
expression of the new student who had locked Grace out of her room,
"I will state that--"
"The Anarchist! the Anarchist!" exclaimed Ruth and Miriam together.
"What are you two talking about?" asked Ruth Denton.
"About the Anarchist," teased Miriam. "Wait until you see her."
"You have seen her," laughed Grace. "Elfreda just imitated her to
perfection." Thereupon Grace related their recent unpleasant experience
to Arline and Ruth.
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Arline.
"We will see Mrs. Elwood as soon as we return to Wayne Hall, and ask

her to gently, but firmly, request the Anarchist to move elsewhere."
"Why do you call her the Anarchist?" asked Arline.
"Elfreda, please repeat your imitation," requested Miriam, her black
eyes sparkling with fun.
Elfreda complied obediently.
"You understand now, don't you?" laughed Grace.
"I should be very stupid if I didn't," declared Arline.
"Of course she's dark, with eyebrows an inch wide. You can't expect
me to give an imitation of anything like that," apologized Elfreda.
"I think I should recognize her on sight," smiled Ruth Denton.
"We are miles off our original subject," remarked Grace. "Elfreda
hasn't told us how she looked as a child."
"All right. I'll tell you now," volunteered J. Elfreda graciously. "I had
round, staring blue eyes and a fat face. I wore my hair down my back in
curls--that is, when it was done up on curlers the night before--and it
was almost tow color. I had red cheeks and was ashamed of them, and
my stocky, square-shouldered figure was anything but sylphlike. I was
not beautiful, but I was very well satisfied with myself, and to call me
'Fatty' was