Grace Harlowes Senior Year at High School | Page 6

for us to go, girls," said Grace, laughing a little. She
rose and held out her hand to the older woman.
"You are very cruel," smiled Mrs. Allison. "You arouse my curiosity
and then refuse to satisfy it. But you cannot escape so easily. You must
come to see me again before I leave here. I shall not try to return to the
Gibsons before Wednesday. I expect Mr. Gibson here to-morrow and
he will attend to my New York business for me. If I had accepted his
offer in the first place, I might have spared myself this accident.
However, I am glad, now. It has brought me charming friends. For I
feel that we shall become friends," she added, stretching out both hands.
"When will you come again?"

"On Tuesday afternoon after school," replied Grace promptly. "And we
will bring Miss Bright, too, unless she and Mabel have some other
engagement."
There was purpose in Grace's last remark. She wished to see if the
name "Mabel" made any impression upon her listener, and therefore
kept her eyes fixed upon Mrs. Allison.
As Grace carelessly mentioned the name she saw an expression of pain
flit across Mrs. Allison's fine face.
"I shall be glad to see Miss Bright," she said quietly. "Is the 'Mabel' you
speak of her sister?"
"No," replied Grace hastily, "she is a girl friend. May we bring her with
us?"
"Do so by all means," rejoined Mrs. Allison. "She bears the name I love
best in all the world." An expression of deep sadness crept into her face
as she uttered these words, and she looked past her callers with
unseeing eyes. "Good-bye, Mrs. Allison," said Grace, and the older
woman roused herself with a start.
"Good-bye, my dears," she responded. "Be sure to come to me on
Tuesday."
"We'll be here," chorused the three girls. "Take good care of yourself."
Not a word was spoken until they reached the street.
"Well!" exclaimed Grace. "What do you think of the whole thing?"
"I think there are several people due to get a shock," said Nora
emphatically.
"I am sorry for Jessica," said Anne. "It will be very hard for her to give
Mabel up."
"Then you think--" said Grace, looking at Anne.

"I am reasonably sure," replied Anne quietly, "from what I have heard
and seen to-day that Mabel is no longer motherless."
CHAPTER III
WHAT HAPPENED IN ROOM FORTY-SEVEN
As the last period of study drew to an end on Tuesday afternoon, the
hearts of the four girl chums beat a trifle faster than usual. What if after
all their conjectures were to prove erroneous, and Mabel Allison was
not the long-lost daughter of the woman in the hospital? All they had to
go by was the remarkable resemblance between the two, and the slight
emotion displayed by Mrs. Allison at the mention of Mabel's name.
When Grace had repeated the details of their call at the hospital to
Jessica, the latter had turned very white, but had said bravely, "I
expected it. We will go with you on Tuesday. Shall I prepare Mabel for
it?"
"No," Grace had replied. "We may find ourselves mistaken, and think
what a cruel disappointment it would be to Mabel. I don't mean by that
Jessica, that Mabel is anxious to leave you, but you know perfectly well
that the desire of Mabel's life is that she may some day find her
parents."
In almost utter silence the four chums, accompanied by Mabel Allison,
crossed the campus and turned into High School Street at the close of
the afternoon session on Tuesday. Each girl seemed busy with her own
thoughts.
"What has come over you girls?" inquired Mabel curiously. "When
four of the liveliest girls in school become mum as the proverbial
oyster, surely something is going to happen."
"'Coming events cast their shadows before'" said Anne half dreamily.
"Well, I wish they'd stop casting shadows over my little playmates
then," laughed Mabel.

At this remark Grace made an effort to appear unconcerned.
"Are you going to play on the junior basketball team this year, Mabel?"
she asked, by way of changing the subject.
"I don't know," replied Mabel. "I feel as though I ought to study every
minute I am in High School, in order to be more thoroughly capable of
earning my own living. I don't expect to be forever dependent upon my
friends."
"Dependent, indeed," sniffed Jessica. "You know perfectly well, you
bad child, that papa and I have been the gainers since you came to us,
and now--" she stopped just in time.
"'And now,' what?" asked Mabel.
"Here we are at the hospital," broke in Nora without giving Jessica time
to answer.
The little party waited what seemed to them an interminable length of
time; although