upholders.
Those who remained did not seem sorry at her departure, and Grace drew a
breath of relief as the door closed upon the wilful girl. She had at least
saved Anne from a cruel attack, but how much longer she could do so was a
question. Miriam would undoubtedly bring up the subject at the first class
meeting, and Grace was not so sure, now, that the girls would be willing
to overlook the loss of the signals when she told them of it.

"I shall be loyal to Anne, no matter what it costs me," she decided. "She
has done nothing wrong, and Miriam will find that she cannot trample upon
either of us with impunity. As for Jessica and Nora, I know they will
agree with me."

Under cover of conversation, Grace whispered to Jessica that she wished
her to remain after the others had gone, and to ask Nora and Anne to do
the same.

When the last of the callers had said good-bye, and the four chums had the
room to themselves, Grace told Nora and Jessica about Anne's mishap, and
how utterly innocent of blame she was.

"Do you mean to tell me that Miriam meant Anne when she said she could
name the girl?" demanded Nora.

"She did, indeed," replied Anne, "and if it had not been for Grace she
would have made things very unpleasant for me."

"Humph," ejaculated the fiery Nora, "then all I have to say is that I
don't see how a nice boy like David ever happened to have a horrid
hateful, scheming sister like Miriam. Stand up for Anne? Well I rather
think so! Let Miriam dare to say anything like that to me."

"Or me," said Jessica.

"I knew you girls would feel the same as I do," said Grace. "Anne has some
true friends, thank goodness. You see Miriam is basing all her
suppositions on the fact that Anne was allowed to come to practice. She
doesn't know anything about the loss of the signals. You remember she
objected to Anne seeing the practice game. Now she will try to show that
she was right in doing so."

"Let her try it," said Jessica, "She'll be sorry."

"I am not so sure of that," said Anne quietly. "You know that Miriam has
plenty of influence with certain girls, while I am only a stranger about
whom no one cares except yourselves and the boys and Mrs. Gray.

"You are the brightest girl in school just the same," said Nora, "and that
counts for a whole lot. Miss Thompson likes you, too, and our crowd is not
to be despised."

"You are the dearest people in the world," responded Anne gratefully.
"Please don't think that I am unappreciative. You have done far too much
for me, and I don't want you to get into trouble on my account. As long as
you girls care for me, I don't mind what the others think."

"Don't say that Anne," said Jessica. "You don't know how mean some of
those girls can be. Don't you remember the junior that was cut by her
class last year? Of course, she did something for which she deserved to be
cut, but the girls made her life miserable. The story went through every
class, and she got the cold shoulder all around. She's not here this year.
Her father sent her away to school, she was so unhappy. You remember her,
don't you?" turning to Grace and Nora.

Both girls nodded. The story of the unfortunate junior loomed up before
them. Every girl in High School knew it.

"We can only hope that history will not repeat itself," said Grace
thoughtfully. "Of course, I don't mean that there is any similarity
between the two cases. That girl last year was untruthful and extremely
dishonorable. It is perfectly ridiculous to think of placing the blame for
those signals upon Anne. If the girls are silly enough to listen to
Miriam's insinuations, then they must choose between Miriam and me. Anne
is my dear friend, and I shall stick to her until the end."




CHAPTER VIII

THE PRICE OF FRIENDSHIP


It was a week before Dr. Gale pronounced Grace fit to return to school.
When she did make her appearance, she was hailed with delight by her
schoolmates and made much of. Miss Thompson greeted her warmly. She was
very fond of Grace, and had expressed great concern over the young girl's
accident. It was unusual for a girl to receive so serious an injury during
a game, as all rough play was strictly forbidden.

The principal had kept the members of both teams after school and
questioned them closely. No one had seen Grace fall, nor realized that she
was hurt until she had been discovered sitting on the gymnasium floor.
Miss Thompson had a vague suspicion of foul play on the part of the
juniors, but was unable to find out anything.

"Athletics for girls have always been encouraged in this school," she had
said. "Rough play is disgraceful. If I found that any member of any High
School basketball organization, either directly or indirectly, caused the
injury of an opponent, I should forbid basketball for the rest of the
season at least, and perhaps absolutely. Tripping, striking and kicking
are barred out of the boys' games and will certainly not be tolerated in
those of the girls."

As Grace was returning to the study hall from geometry recitation that
morning, she encountered Julia Crosby. Julia glanced at her with an
expression half fearful, half cunning, as though she wondered if Grace
knew the truth about her fall.

Grace returned the look with one of such quiet contempt and scorn that
Julia dropped her eyes and hurried along the corridor.

"How could she have been so contemptible?" thought Grace.

"I wonder if she'll tell," thought Julia. "She evidently knows I was
responsible for her tumble. My, what a look she gave me. I wonder if that
snippy little Anne Pierson knows about it, too. Very likely she does, for
Grace Harlowe tells her all her business. If they do say anything I'll
take good care no one believes it."

She was so absorbed in her own ruminations that she crashed into the
dignified president of the senior class with considerable force, much to
the glee of Nora, who happened to be near enough to catch the icy
expression on the senior's face as Julia mumbled an apology.

At recess Grace notified the members of the basketball team and their
substitutes that she had called a meeting to take place that afternoon at
three o'clock in the sophomore locker room. "Only the basketball people
are requested to be present," she concluded, "so don't bring any of the
rest of the class."

At three o'clock precisely the last member had arrived. Every girl took
particular pains to be there, for most of them had been at the Harlowe's
on the day that Grace had silenced Miriam.

The meeting promised to be one of interest, for had not Grace Harlowe said
that she would tell them something about the betrayed signals?

"Girls," Grace began, "you all know that although it is against the rules
to allow any outsider to witness our practice, we have always made an
exception in favor of Jessica. You all have perfect confidence in Jessica,
I am sure. Since practice began this fall we have allowed Anne to come to
it, too. You remember I asked permission for her to see the practice game,
because I knew her to be absolutely trustworthy."

Here Nora nodded emphatically, Miriam tossed her head and smiled
mockingly, while the rest of the girls looked a trifle mystified.

"Anne," continued Grace, "did not understand many of our plays, so I
wrote out a list of signals for her, to study and learn by heart, telling
her to destroy them as soon as she was sure she knew them. Unfortunately,
she lost them, and at once told me about it. She felt very unhappy over
it; but I told her not to worry, because I never supposed their loss would
make any difference.

"When the game was well under way and the juniors began to block our
plays, it flashed across me that in some way they had found that list.
Anne, who has a mania for labeling everything, had written 'Sophomore
basketball signals' across the paper; so, of course, any one who found it
would know exactly what the list meant.

"We were warned that the juniors held a meeting at the Omnibus House a day
or so before the game, and that they meant mischief. I never thought,
however, they would be quite so dishonorable.

"I would have told you this before the game, but was afraid it would
confuse and worry you. I am sure that you will agree with me, and absolve
Anne from all blame."

"I don't agree with you at all," flashed Miriam, "and I am glad to have a
chance to speak my mind. I told you before the game that I objected to
Miss Pierson watching our practice, that it was against the rules, but no
attention was paid to what I said. If you had taken my advice the result
would have been far different. I have no doubt Grace believes that Miss
Pierson lost the list, but I am not so easily deceived. I believe she
deliberately handed it over to the juniors, and every loyal member of the
team should cut her acquaintance."

"Miriam Nesbit," cried Nora. "You haven't the least right to accuse Anne
Pierson of any such thing. She is too honorable to think of it, and she
has no love for the junior class either. She isn't even friendly with
them. If any one is to be accused of treachery, I should say that there
are members of the team far more friendly with the juniors than poor
little Anne."

This was a direct slap at Miriam, who winced a little at Nora's words.

"Well," said Marian Barber quickly, "it stands to reason that no member of
the team would be foolish enough to help the enemy. I don't know anything
about Miss Pierson, but I do know that I overheard Julia Crosby telling
some girl in her class that the sophomores could thank one of their own
class for their defeat."

"When did you hear her say that?" queried Miriam sharply.

"Yesterday morning. I was walking behind her, and she was so busy talking
she didn't notice me."

"You girls can draw your own conclusions," said Miriam triumphantly. "That
simply proves what I have said."

"That simply proves nothing at all," exclaimed Grace Harlowe, who had been
too angry to trust herself to speak. "You are making a very serious charge
against Anne without one bit of ground on which to base your suspicions.
You have always disliked her because she won the freshman prize, and you
know nothing whatever against her."

"No," said Miriam scornfully, "nor anything to her credit either. Who is
she, anyway? The daughter of a strolling third-rate actor, who goes
barnstorming about the country, and she has been on the stage, too. She
has a very good opinion of herself since Mrs. Gray and certain Oakdale
girls took her up, but I wouldn't trust her as far as I could see her. Why
should girls of good Oakdale families be forced to associate with such
people? I suppose she wanted to be on good terms with the juniors, too,
and took that method of gaining her point."

"That is pure nonsense," exclaimed Nora. "Don't you think so, girls?"

But the other girls made no reply. They were thinking hard. Suspicion
seemed to point in Anne's direction. What a pity Grace had been so rash
about taking Anne up if her father were a common actor. Miriam was right
about not caring to associate with Anne. After all, they knew very little
about her. Grace Harlowe was always picking queer people and trying to
help them.

"I think we ought to be very careful about taking outsiders into our
confidence," firmly said Eva Allen, one of the team. "I didn't know Miss
Pierson had ever been an actress." There was a note of horror in her voice
as she pronounced the last word.

"I have always heard that they were very unreliable people," said another
miss of sixteen.

Grace was in despair. She felt that she had lost. By dragging up Anne's
unfortunate family history, Miriam had produced a bad impression that she
was powerless to efface.

"Girls," she said, "you ought to be ashamed of yourselves. You know
perfectly well that Anne is innocent. If you wish to be my friend you must
be Anne's also. Please say that you believe her."

"Count on me," said Nora.

But the other sophomores had nothing to say.

Grace looked about her appealingly, only to meet cold looks and averted
faces. Miriam was smiling openly.

"The meeting is adjourned," said Grace shortly, and without another word
she went to her locker and began taking out her wraps. Nora followed her,
but the majority of the girls walked over to the other end of the room and
began to talk in low tones with Miriam.

Grace realized that her team had deserted her for Miriam. It was almost
unbelievable. She set her lips and winked hard to keep back the tears
which rose to her eyes. Then, followed by her one faithful friend, she
walked out of the locker room, leaving her fickle classmates with their
chosen leader.




CHAPTER IX

AN UNSUCCESSFUL INTERVIEW


There were two subjects of interest under discussion in the sophomore
class. One was the coming ball, the other the story of the lost signals,
which had gone the round of the class. The general opinion seemed to be
that Anne had betrayed the team, and with the unthinking cruelty of youth,
the girls had resolved to teach her a lesson. Miriam's accusation had been
repeated from one girl to another, with unconscious additions, until Anne
loomed up in the light of a traitor, and was treated accordingly.

Grace had told Anne the next day the details of the meeting, and in some
measure prepared her for what would undoubtedly follow. Anne had laughed a
little at the account of Miriam's remarks regarding her father, and the
girls' evident disapproval of the theatrical profession.

"How silly they are," she said to Grace, who felt secretly relieved to
know that Anne was not mortally hurt over Miriam's attack. "They don't
know anything about professional people. Of course, there are plenty of
worthless actors, but some of them are really very fine men and women.
Miriam may abuse my family all she chooses, but I do feel unhappy to think
that those girls believe me dishonorable and under-handed."

"They wouldn't if they had any sense," responded Grace hotly, "I never
believed that those girls could be so snobbish. I always thought them
above such petty meanness. Don't pay any attention to them, Anne. They
aren't worth it. I am going to interview Julia Crosby and make her
acknowledge that she wasn't referring to you the other day. There is
something queer about it all. I believe that there is some kind of secret
understanding between Miriam and Julia; that this is a deliberate plot on
their part to injure you and humiliate me, and I shall find out the truth
before I am through."

"But what has Julia Crosby against me?" queried Anne, "I hardly know her."

"She hasn't forgotten the way David defended you at Mrs. Gray's Christmas
ball last year," answered Grace, "Besides, you're a sophomore. Isn't that
a good enough reason?"

"I suppose it is," said Anne wearily.

Grace kept her word and hailed Julia Crosby on the following afternoon as
she was leaving the High School. It seemed a favorable opportunity for
Julia was alone.

"Miss Crosby," said Grace coldly. "I should like to speak to you about a
very important matter."

"There's nothing to hinder you, Miss Harlowe," replied Julia brusquely.
"I'm here. Are you sure that it really is important?"

She stopped and eyed Grace insolently.

"I am very sure that it is important, Miss Crosby," said Grace. "Not long
ago a certain sophomore overheard you telling a member of your class that
we sophomores could thank a girl in our class for our basketball defeat. A
certain girl had already been unjustly accused of betraying our signals.
When your remark was repeated to the team, they immediately decided that
you meant her. Since then her classmates have taken the matter up and are
determined to cut her acquaintance."

"Well what has all this childish prattle to do with me?" demanded Julia
rudely.

"It has this to do with you, that you can set the matter right by saying
it was not Anne. You know perfectly well she had nothing to do with it. I
don't know how you got those signals, but I do know that Anne never gave
them to you."

"Did I say that she did?" asked Julia.

"No," said Grace, "neither did you say that she didn't."

"Very true," replied Julia in a disagreeable tone, "and I don't intend to
say so either. She may or she may not have given them to me. I'll never
tell. She's a snippy, conceited, little prig, and a little punishment for
her sins will do her good."

"You are a cruel, heartless girl," cried Grace angrily. "Knowing Anne to
be innocent, you refuse to clear her name of the suspicion resting upon
it. Let me tell you one thing. I know who tripped me the day of the game,
and so does Anne. If you don't clear Anne instantly, I shall go straight
to Miss Thompson with it."

Grace's threat went home. Julia stood in actual dread of the principal. It
looked as though the tables had been turned at last. If Grace went to Miss
Thompson what a commotion there would be!

In a moment, however, Julia recovered herself. What was it Miss Thompson
had said about rough play? Ah, Julia remembered now, and with the
recollection of the principal's words came the means of worsting Grace
Harlowe in her efforts to vindicate Anne.

"You may go to Miss Thompson if you think it wise," she said with a
malicious smile, "but I wouldn't advise it--that is, unless you have
gotten over caring for basketball."

"What do you mean?" asked Grace. Then like a flash she understood. If she
should tell Miss Thompson the truth, the principal would believe her.
Julia would receive her just deserts but, oh, bitter thought, there would
be no more basketball that season.

Grace felt that she had no right to sacrifice the pleasure of so many
others, even for Anne's sake. It would only increase the feeling against
both Anne and herself, and after all, Julia might still hold out in her
insinuations against Anne.

"How can you be so contemptible?" she said to her smiling enemy. "You
never win anything honestly. I see it is useless for me to appeal to you
for something which you cannot give, and that is fair play!" With a slight
bow, Grace walked quickly away, leaving Julia a little astonished at her
sudden departure and not at all pleased at Grace's frankly expressed
opinion.

Grace lost no time in relating to Anne her fruitless interview with the
junior captain.

"I am so humiliated to think I failed. I expected that threatening to tell
Miss Thompson would bring her to her senses, but she is too cunning for
me," sighed Grace.

The two girls were walking home from school.

"Shall you tell Nora and Jessica?" asked Anne.

"No," said Grace. "Let us keep the sprained ankle part of the story a
secret. They are loyal to you, at any rate, and Nora would be so angry. I
am afraid I couldn't keep her from going straight to Miss Thompson and
making a general mess of things. I am so sorry, Anne, dear, but I guess we
shall have to weather the gale together. It will die out after a while,
just as all those things do. Hush! Don't say anything now. Here come Nora
and Jessica."

"What do you think!" cried Nora. "Edna Wright is giving a party next
Saturday, and she isn't going to invite either you or Anne."

"How shocking!" said Grace. "We shall both die of grief at having been
slighted."

She spoke lightly, and no one but Anne guessed how much the news hurt her.

"We are not going," declared Nora, "and we told her so."

"What did she say?" asked Grace.

"We didn't give her time to answer," said Nora, "but rushed off to find
you. The whole thing is perfectly ridiculous! The idea of a lot of silly
little school girls thinking they own the earth. It's all Miriam's fault.
She has tried to be leader of her class ever since it was organized but
mark what I say, she'll never accomplish it. Pride will get a fall, one of
these days, and I hope I'll be around when it happens."

"Never mind, Nora," said Grace soothingly. "Anne and I don't care. We'll
give a party at the same time, to our own crowd. I'll tell you what we'll
do. We will have a surprise party for Mrs. Gray. I'll write to Tom Gray
and ask him to come down for next Saturday. That will be a double surprise
to dear Mrs. Gray."

"Fine!" cried Jessica. "We'll have Hippy and Reddy and David. Then our
circle will be complete. The other crowd will be furious. Those boys are
all popular, and I know that Edna intends to invite them."

"Let's tell them at once, then," said Nora, "before the other girls get a
chance."

The boys were promptly invited. Grace sent a note to Tom Gray, who found
it possible to get away for the week end.

Reddy, Hippy and David received invitations to the other party, but
politely declined. Miriam endeavored to point out to her brother the folly
of his conduct, but David simply stared at her and said nothing. He knew
to what lengths her jealousy had carried her during the freshman year, and
although Nora had entirely omitted his sister's name from the conversation
when telling him of the recent trouble that had arisen, still David felt
that Miriam was at the bottom of it.

Failing to elicit any response from her brother, she flew into a rage and
did not speak to him for a week, while David went serenely on his way,
and let her get over it as best she might.

The surprise party proved a success. Mrs. Gray's delight at seeing her
"Christmas children" and having her beloved nephew with her was worth
seeing. The young people did all the "stunts" they knew for her
entertainment, and the boys repeated their Shakespearian performance for
the old lady, who laughed until she could laugh no more.

It was their turn to be surprised, however, when the old butler suddenly
appeared and announced that supper was served. Mrs. Gray had held a word
of conversation with him directly after their arrival, which resulted in
an array of good things calculated to tempt the appetite of any healthy
boy or girl.

After supper they had an old-fashioned "sing," with Jessica at the piano,
ending with "Home, Sweet Home" and the inevitable "Good Night, Ladies."

"I'm sure we had a better time than the other crowd," said Nora as they
all walked down the street.

"Of course," said Grace, but a little feeling of sadness swept over her as
she realized for the first time in her short life she had been slighted by
any of her school friends.




CHAPTER X

THE SOPHOMORE BALL


It was the night of the sophomore ball. For a week past the class had been
making preparations. The gymnasium had been transformed into a veritable
bower of beauty. Every palm in Oakdale that could be begged, borrowed or
rented was used for the occasion. Drawing rooms had been robbed of their
prettiest sofa cushions and hangings, to make attractive cosy corners in
the big room.

The walls were decorated with evergreens and class banners, while the
class colors, red and gold, were everywhere in evidence. The sophomores
had been recklessly extravagant in the matter of cut flowers, and bowls of
red roses and carnations ornamented the various tables, loaned by fond
mothers for the gratification of sophomore vanity.

The girls had worked hard to outdo previous sophomore affairs, and when
all was finished the various teachers who were invited to view the general
effect were unanimous in their admiration.

Once a year each of the four High School classes gave some sort of
entertainment. Readers of "GRACE HARLOWE'S PLEBE YEAR" will remember the
masquerade ball given by the sophomores, now juniors, and the active part
taken by Grace and her chums in that festivity.

The present sophomores had decided to make their ball a larger affair than
usual, and had sent out invitations to favored members of the other
classes. An equal number of boys had been invited from the boys' High
School, and the party promised to be one of the social events of Oakdale.

Mrs. Gray and a number of other prominent women of Oakdale, were to act as
patronesses. Mrs. Harlowe, usually a favorite chaperon with Grace's crowd,
had been ignored for the first time, and Grace was cut to the quick over
it. As for Grace herself, she had not been appointed to a single
committee. Prominent heretofore in every school enterprise, it was galling
to the high-spirited girl to be deliberately left out of the preparations.
Nora had been asked to help receive and Jessica had been appointed to the
refreshment committee, but on finding that Grace was being snubbed, both
had coldly declined to serve in either capacity.

The four chums held more than one anxious discussion as to the
advisability of even attending the ball.

"I think we ought to go, just to show those girls that we are impervious
to their petty insults," declared Grace. "We have as much right there as
any one else, and I am sure the boys we know will dance with us whether
the rest of the girls like it or not. Besides, Mrs. Gray will be there,
and she will expect to see us. She doesn't know anything about this
trouble, and I don't want her to know. It would only grieve her. She is so
fond of Anne. By all means we must go to the ball. Wear your prettiest
gowns and act as though nothing had happened."

That night, the four young girls, in their party finery, sat waiting in
the Harlowe's drawing room for their escorts--David, Hippy and Reddy. Anne
wore the pink crepe de chine which had done duty at Mrs. Gray's house
party the previous winter. Grace wore an exquisite gown of pale blue silk
made in a simple, girlish fashion that set her off to perfection. Nora was
gowned in lavender and wore a corsage bouquet of violets that had
mysteriously arrived that afternoon, and that everyone present suspected
Hippy of sending. Jessica's gown was of white organdie, trimmed with tiny
butterfly medallions and valenciennes lace.

In spite of the possibility that she and Anne might be the subject of
unpleasant comment, Grace made up her mind to enjoy herself. She was fond
of dancing, and knew that she would have plenty of invitations to do so.
David would look after Anne, who was not yet proficient enough in dancing
to venture to try it in public.

"If only Miriam and Julia Crosby behave themselves!" she thought, "for, of
course, Julia will be there. Miriam will see that she gets an invitation."

Grace thrilled with pride as she entered the gymnasium. How beautifully it
had been decorated and how well everything looked. She was so sorry that
the girls had seen fit to leave her out of it all. Then she remembered her
resolution to forget all differences and just have a good time.

Miriam, gowned in apricot messaline trimmed with silver, was in the
receiving line with half a dozen other sophomores. Grace and her party
would be obliged to exchange civilities with the enemy. She wondered what
Miriam would do. David solved this problem for her by taking charge of the
situation. Walking straight up to Miriam, he said a few words to her in a
low tone. She flushed slightly, looked a trifle defiant then greeted the
girls coldly, but with civility. The other sophomores followed her
example, but Grace breathed a sigh of relief as they walked over to where
Mrs. Gray, in a wonderful black satin gown, sat among the patronesses.

"My dear children, I am so glad to see all of you!" exclaimed the
sprightly old lady. "How fine all my girls look. You are like a bouquet of
flowers. Grace is a bluebell, Anne is a dear little clove pink, Nora is a
whole bunch of violets and Jessica looks like a white narcissus."

"Where do we come in?" asked David, smiling at Mrs. Gray's pretty
comparison.

"Allow me to answer that question," said Hippy. "You are like the tall and
graceful burdock. Reddy resembles the common, but much-admired sheep
sorrel, while I am like that tender little flower, the forget-me-not.
Having once seen me, is it possible to forget me!" He struck an attitude
and looked languishingly at Nora.

"I'll forget you forever if you look at me like that," threatened Nora.

"Never again," said Hippy hastily. "Bear witness, all of you, that my
expression has changed."

Just then the first notes of the waltz "Amoreuse" rang out, and the
gymnasium floor was soon filled with High School boys and girls dressed in
their best party attire. The dances followed each other in rapid
succession until supper was announced. This was served at small tables by
the town caterer.

Mrs. Gray and her adopted children occupied two tables near together and
had a merry time. Many curious glances were cast in their direction by the
other members of the sophomore class.

Some of the girls wondered whether it was a good thing to cut Anne
Pierson's acquaintance. She was certainly a friend of Mrs. Gray, and Mrs.
Gray was one of the most influential women in Oakdale. Frances Fuller, a
worldly-minded sophomore, dared to intimate as much to Miriam Nesbit, who
replied loftily:

"If Mrs. Gray knew as much about Miss Pierson as we do, she would probably
not care for her any longer."

"It's a pity some one doesn't tell her," said Julia Crosby, ever ready for
mischief.

"Oh, some one will have the courage yet," answered Miriam, "and when she
does, that will end everything as far as Miss Pierson is concerned. Mrs.
Gray can't endure anything dishonorable."

Just then a young man claimed Miriam for the two-step about to begin, and
Julia wandered off, leaving Frances to digest what had been said. The more
the latter thought about it, the more she felt that Mrs. Gray ought to be
warned against Anne. She decided that she had the courage; that it was
her duty to do so.

Without hesitating, she blundered over to where Mrs. Gray sat for the
moment.

"Mrs. Gray," Frances began, "I want to tell you something which I think
you ought to know."

"And what is that, my dear?" asked the old lady courteously, trying vainly
to remember the girl's face.

"Why, about Miss Pierson's true character," replied the girl.

"Miss Pierson's true character?" repeated Mrs. Gray. "I don't understand
what you mean."

"That she is dishonorable and treacherous. She betrayed the sophomore
basketball signals to the juniors, and then denied it, when her class had
positive proof against her. Besides, her father is a disreputable actor,
and she was an actress before she came here. We thought if you knew the
truth you wouldn't uphold any such person." Frances paused. She thought
she had made an impression upon her listener.

Mrs. Gray sat silent. She was too deeply incensed to trust herself to
speak. Frances looked complacent. She evidently hoped to be commended for
her plain speaking. Then Mrs. Gray found her voice.

"Young woman," she said, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself. What can
you hope to gain by saying unkind things about a nice, gentle, little girl
who is in every respect worthy of all the love and regard that can be
given her? I do not know what you can be thinking of to speak so
slightingly of one of your classmates, and I am sorry to be obliged to
remind you that it is the height of ill breeding to abuse a person to his
or her friends."

With these words, Mrs. Gray turned her back squarely upon the dazed girl,
who slowly arose, and without looking at Mrs. Gray, walked dejectedly
across the room. But Miriam Nesbit lost one supporter from that minute on.

"Hateful things," said the mortified Frances, looking towards Julia and
Miriam. "I believe they are more to blame than Miss Pierson ever thought
of being."