"Emma Dean?" guessed Elfreda.

"Yes, Emma Dean. I can't begin to tell you how fond of her I am and always
have been. She was the life of Wayne Hall. Mrs. Elwood was sighing fond
remembrance of her only this morning. Really, Elfreda, I wonder if, ever
again, there will be a class quite like 19--?"

"Never," declared Elfreda with quick loyalty, then, glancing up at the
mission clock on the wall, she exclaimed: "I wonder why Mrs. Gray doesn't
come! Let's go out on the veranda and watch for her."

The two young women strolled out onto the veranda just in time to see an
automobile drive up to the house containing two persons. One of them was
Mrs. Gray, the other, to whom she was talking animatedly, was a
broad-shouldered young man, whose gray eyes shone with pleasure as he
caught sight of Grace.

"Why, Tom!" she called in astonishment. "Where did you come from? I
thought you were away up in Maine." She hurried down the steps, her hands
extended.

The young man caught them in his and held them fast. "So I was," he
answered, his eyes searching hers, "but my work there is done for the
present. I am on my way to Washington, but it's a roundabout way, for, when
I received your letter, I was devoured with curiosity to see Harlowe
House, so I took a day off, on my own responsibility, and came this way."

Grace colored under the young man's ardent gaze. She knew only too well
that it was not alone curiosity to see Harlowe House that had taken Tom
out of his way. "I'm sorry your curiosity didn't devour you sooner," she