Grace looked first at the stranger then from Miriam to Anne. Miriam
looked ready for battle, while even mild little Anne glared resentfully
at the rude newcomer. Grace hesitated, opened her mouth as though about
to speak, then without saying a word sat down in the vacant place and
began to rearrange the sheets of her letter.

"I'll finish this some other time, girls," she said briefly.

"Oh, you needn't mind me," calmly remarked the stranger. "I don't mind
listening to letters. That is if they've got anything in them besides 'I
write these few lines to tell you that I am well and hope you are the
same.' That sort of stuff makes me sick. Goodness knows, I suppose
that's the kind I'll have handed to me all year. Neither Ma nor Pa can
write a letter that sounds like anything."

By this time Miriam's frown had begun to disappear, while Anne's eyes
were dancing.

Grace looked at the stout girl rather curiously, an expression of new
interest dawning in her eyes. "Are you going to college?" she asked.

"Well, I rather guess I am," was the quick reply. "I'll bet you girls
are in the same boat with me, too. What college do you get off at?"

"Overton," answered Grace.

"Then you haven't seen the last of me," assured the stranger, "for I'm
going there myself and I'd just about as soon go to darkest Africa or
any other heathen place."