Grace Harlowes Second Year at Overton College | Page 7

you might imagine," replied Anne. Then she said
quickly, "Miriam must have been an interesting little girl."
"I was a very haughty young person," answered Miriam. "In the
Oakdale Grammar School I was known as the Princess. Do you
remember that, Grace?"
Grace nodded. "Miriam used to order the girls in her room about as
though they were her subjects," she declared. "She had two long black
braids of hair and her cheeks were always pink. She was the tallest girl

in her room and the teachers used to say she was the prettiest."
"I was a regular tyrant," went on Miriam. "I had a frightful temper. I
was a snob, too, and looked upon girls whose parents were poor with
the utmost contempt."
"Miriam Nesbit, you can't be describing yourself!" exclaimed Arline
incredulously.
"Ask Grace if I am not giving an accurate description of the Miriam
Nesbit of those days," challenged Miriam.
"It isn't fair to ask me," fenced Grace. "You always invited me to your
parties."
"There, you can draw your own conclusions," retorted Miriam
triumphantly. "I don't object to telling about my past shortcomings as I
have at last outgrown a few of my disagreeable traits."
"Were you and Grace friends then?" asked Arline.
"We played together and went to each other's houses, but we were
never very chummy," explained Grace. "We were both too headstrong
and too fond of our own way to be close friends. It was after we entered
high school that we began to find out that we liked each other, wasn't it,
Miriam?"
"Yes," returned Miriam, looking affectionately at her friend. In two
sentences Grace had effectually bridged a yawning gap in Miriam's
early high school days of which the latter was heartily ashamed.
"Every one has told a tale but Ruth," declared Elfreda. "Now, Ruth,
what have you to say for yourself?"
"Not much," said Ruth, shaking her head. "So far, my life has been too
gray to warrant recording. That is, up to the time I came to Overton,"
she added, smiling gratefully on the little circle. "My freshman year
was a very happy one, thanks to you girls."

"But when you were a child you must have had a few good times that
stand out in your memory," persisted Elfreda.
Ruth's face took on a hunted expression. Her mouth set in hard lines.
"No," she said shortly. "There was nothing worth remembering.
Perhaps I'll tell you some day, but not now. Please don't think me
hateful and disobliging, but I don't wish to talk of myself."
Arline Thayer eyed Ruth with displeasure. "I don't see why you should
say that, Ruth. We have all talked of ourselves," she said coldly.
Ruth flushed deeply. She felt the note of censure in Arline's voice.
"I think we had better go," announced Grace, consulting her watch. "It
is now half-past seven. We ought to be at Wayne Hall by eight o'clock.
You know the Herculean labor I have before me."
"Herculean labor is a good name for our coming task," chuckled Anne.
"The Anarchist will make Wayne Hall resound with her vengeful cries
when she is thrust out of the room with all her possessions."
Jesting light-heartedly over the coming encounter, the diners strolled
out of Vinton's and down College Street in the direction of the campus.
Arline was the first to leave them. Her good night to the four girls from
Wayne Hall was cordial in the extreme, but to Ruth she was almost
distant. A little later on they said good night to Ruth, who looked ready
to cry.
"Cheer up," comforted Grace, who was walking with Ruth. "Arline will
be all right to-morrow."
"I hope so," responded Ruth mournfully. "I did not mean to make her
angry, only there are some things of which I cannot speak to any one."
"I understand," rejoined Grace, wondering what Ruth's secret cross was.
"Good night, Ruth."
Elfreda, Miriam and Anne bade Ruth goodnight in turn.

"Now, for the tug of war," declared Elfreda as they hurried up the steps
of Wayne Hall. "On to the battlefield and down with the Anarchist!"
CHAPTER III
MRS. ELWOOD TO THE RESCUE
As Grace approached the curtained archway that divided the
living-room from the hall she could not help wishing that she might
have settled the affair without Mrs. Elwood's assistance. She was not
afraid to approach Mrs. Elwood, who was the soul of good nature, but
Grace disliked the idea of the scene that she felt sure would follow. The
young woman now occupying the room that she and Anne had
re-engaged for their sophomore year would contest their right to
occupy it. Mrs. Elwood would be obliged to set her foot down firmly. It
would all be extremely disagreeable. Grace reflected. Then the memory
of the Anarchist's