it. Of course it hurts to be snubbed, but I guess we can stand it. We have
some friends who are loyal, at any rate."

"I suppose you are right, my dear," responded the old lady. "It is better
for old folks to keep their fingers out of young folk's pies. But what did
that pert miss mean about Anne's father being an actor? I had an idea he
was dead."

So Grace told Mrs. Gray the story of Anne's father, beginning from where
he had intercepted Anne on her way from the aëroplane exhibition during
her freshman year, up to the time of the arrival of his letter begging for
money.

"Anne used her freshman prize money last year to help him out of trouble.
He forged a friend's name for one hundred dollars, and would have had to
go to prison had she not made good the money he took, I always wanted you
to know about it, Mrs. Gray, but Anne felt so badly over it, she begged me
never to tell any one."

"Your story explains a great many things I never before understood," said
Mrs. Gray. "That doll that was sent to the Christmas party last year, for
instance. But how did Miriam find out about it?"

"We don't know," said Grace. "Her doings are dark and mysterious. Find out
she did; and she has told the story with considerable effect among the
girls."

"It is too bad," mused Mrs. Gray. "I should like to right matters were it
possible, but as long as you don't wish it, my dear, I suppose I must let
you fight it out by yourselves. But one thing I am sure of, Anne shall