Grace Harlowe's return to Overton campus

Contents

Chapter Page

I. A Midsummer Pilgrimage 7

II. A Welcome Guest 14

Chapter I A Midsummer Pilgrimage

at last!’’ exclaimed Grace i f Harlowe, as, regardless of possible cinders and stern railroad injunctions, she leaned far out of the car window to obtain a first eager glimpse of her destination.

It was midsummer, and the quiet, little town of Overton drowsed gently, not to awaken until the sounds of girl laughter and the passing of light feet through its sleepy streets roused it to the realization that it was Overton College that made its hum-drum existence worth while.

‘‘Oh, Mrs. Gray, you can’t imagine how happy I feel!” went on Grace, her eyes eloquent vuth emotion. “Next to home, I love Overton better than any other place on earth. I’m so glad we are going to stay at Wayne Hall, and that Mrs. Elwood is to meet us.”

A long shrill whistle, a creaking and groaning of protesting iron wheels, the stentorian cry of ‘‘Overton! Overton!^’ and then a sudden jarring stop. Grace reached to the rack overhead for Mrs. Gray’s small leather bag, allowing the dainty little old lady to precede her down the aisle which was practically clear. Apparently they were the only Overton passengers in that car. She stood still on the top step of the train until Mrs. Gray had been safely landed on the platform by the smiling porter, then, disdaining his helping hand, ran down the steps with a joyful skip that caused her companion to say indulgently, “You’ll never grow up, Grace, and I’m glad of it. I can’t become reconciled to the fact that Nora and Jessica are brides-to-be and that Anne’s art is making her terribly serious. It’s a joy to my old age to see you frisk about as happily as you did when you were a little thing in short white skirts with two long braids of fair hair hanging down your back.

“I don’t really feel a bit older than I did then,” confessed Grace. “Sometimes I’m almost ashamed of my enthusiasm. It seems as though nice things are always happening to me, and this summer pilgrimage of just we two is the nicest of all.”

They were walking slowly across the deserted platform now, and Grace was keeping a sharp look-out on all sides for the short, comfortable figure of Mrs. Elwood.

i i There she is ! ’ ’ Grace hurried forward, her hands outstretched. The next instant they were held in Mrs. Elwood ^s welcoming grasp, while she kissed Grace’s soft cheek.

^‘My dear, dear girl!” she exclaimed, a suspicious moisture in her kindly blue eyes. ‘^It does seem good to see you again. I ’m very glad to welcome you to Overton, Mrs. Gray,” she turned to shake hands with the donor of Harlowe House, ‘^and delighted to know that you are going to stay with me instead of going to the Tourraine. Miss Harlowe’s old room is ready for her, and I’m going to put you in the room Miss Nesbit and Miss Briggs used to have. ’ ’

‘^You’ll be haunted by the kimono-clad shades of Miriam and Elfreda drinking tea and eating cakes at unseemly hours of the night,” laughed Grace.

^ ‘ How are all my girls 1 ’ ’ asked Mrs. Elwood. don’t know what I shall do without them this year. You will have to come and see me often and tell me all about them, Miss Harlowe. Now let me see. There ought to be a taxicab just the other side of the station. Yes, there it is.”

The driver touched his cap smilingly to

Grace as they climbed into the automobile. ‘‘It does look good to see yon here again, miss,’^ he said respectfully.

“Thank you. I^m glad to see you again. Grace beamed whole-heartedly upon him. How many times he had carried her to and from the station. It was he who had driven the car on that memorable day when Ruth Denton had gone to the station to meet her father. Grace’s eyes grew dreamy as they passed through the familiar streets. How much had happened since the time when she had entered Oakdale High School as a freshman with college in the far and hidden future.

To her many friends “Gkace Harlowe’s Plebe Year at High School,” “Grace Harlowe’s Sophomore Year at High School,” “Grace Harlowe’s Junior Year at High School,” and “Grace Harlowe’s Senior Year AT High School” are now familiar records. Equally well known to these friends is the story of her freshman year at Overton, as set forth in “Graqe Harlowe’s First Year at Overton College.”

Accompanied by her friends, Miriam Nesbit and Anne Pierson, Grace began her freshman year at Overton College under a cloud which rose from her ready defense of J. Elfreda Briggs, a disgruntled student who had made

TO OVEKTON CAMPUS enemies of two sophomores, and whose first days at college were made very unpleasant by them. J. Elfreda’s subsequent casting aside of her friendship and her tardy realization of Grace’s worth brought about a happy ending of their freshman year.

In ‘ ‘ Grace Harlowe ’s Second Year at Overton College” the four girls set out to find the rainbow side of their sophomore year. How each girl found it, but in an entirely different manner, how Grace lived up to her resolve to choose only the highest in college, and how the famous Semper Fidelis Club came into existence, made the sophomore year in college memorable.

‘‘Grace Harlowe ’s Third Year at Overton College” told of what befell the four friends as juniors. The advent of Kathleen West, a newspaper girl, into college was the first link in a chain of petty difficulties with which Grace was obliged to contend as a junior. The carnival given by the Semper Fidelis Club in which the Alice in Wonderland Circus was enacted, the important part which J ean, the old hunter of Oakdale fame, played in one Overton girl’s life, the message Emma Dean forgot to deliver, and countless other absorbing incidents served to fill their junior year with ceaseless interest.

‘^Gkace Haklowe’s Fourth Year at Overtok College” found Grace and her friends on the homeward stretch with commencement at the end of their college trail. The record of Grace’s senior year was filled with happenings grave and gay. It ended in a blaze of honor and glory, and it was on Commencement day that she made her decision to return to Overton and look after Harlowe House, lately completed and endowed by Mrs. Gray in honor of her young friends and dedicated to the use of poor girls who were making valiant efforts to obtain an education.

It was in reference to Harlowe House, her future home, that Grace and Mrs. Gray had made this midsummer pilgrimage, as Grace had laughingly styled it, to Overton. As their car glided through the shady streets of the dignified college town Grace wondered if it were really eight years since her freshman days in Oakdale High School. It certainly couldn’t be four years since Mabel Ashe had conducted her and Anne and Miriam to the Tourraine on that first eventful afternoon. She remembered just how beautiful Mabel had looked in her white linen frock, with her white embroidered parasol tilted over one shoulder, an effective frame for her lovely face and wavy, golden-brown hair.

Dreaming, Grace?’’ Mrs. Gray’s voice dispelled the vision. ‘‘I can’t blame you. I suppose this ride brings up hosts of memories.”

Grace nodded. She could not trust her voice to answer. A sudden mist filled her eyes, a silent tribute to those whose feet had once kept pace with hers through these beloved ways. Commencement had scattered them broadcast. She, alone, was coming back again to take up life at the college. How she would miss them all. The dry irresistible humor of Emma Dean, the sturdy independence of J. Elfreda Briggs, the daintiness of Arline Thayer and the steadfast loyalty of Ruth Denton. Last of all there were Anne and Miriam. Anne, her devoted little comrade of years, and Miriam, whose faith and good fellowship had never failed her.

A sob rose in Grace’s throat, but she quickly stifled it. After all she was about to begin the work she herself had chosen. She had known when she announced her determination to take charge of Harlowe House that things could never be quite the same. It would be selfish, indeed, in her to break down and cry when Mrs. Gray had come to Overton solely to help her select the furniture and plan for the opening of Harlowe House in September.

Grace pulled herself together and, resolutely putting her own sense of loss behind her, said steadily: ‘‘I couldnT help thinking of the girls for a minute. It made me want to cry, but Vve set my face to the future now, and I^m sure that my new work is going to bring me as much happiness here as I had during the other dear four years. When I think of how splendid it was in you to give Harlowe House to Overton, I feel as though there isnT any sacrifice too great for me to make to insure its success, and I hope that my coming back to Overton Campus to do my work is going to mean a thousand times more to me next June than it does now.”

Chapter II A Welcome Guest

The summer sun, streaming intimately in at the window of her room, and touching her hair with warm, aw^akening fingers, caused Grace to open her eyes before six o^clock the next -morning. She lay looking about her, unable for the moment to remember where she was. Then she laughed and reaching for her kimono, which hung folded across the footboard of the bed, slipped it on, and, thrusting her feet into her bedroom slippers, went to the window.

‘‘Dear old Overton Hall,’’ she murmured, her eyes fixed lovingly on the stately gray tower of the building that she had come to regard as a close friend. Again she found herself overwhelmed by a tide of reminiscences. How many times she and Anne had stood at the self-same window, arm in arm, gazing out at the self-same sights. She could see the very seat at the foot of the big tree where she had sat the day Emma Dean had poked her head about the big syringa bush and mournfully handed her the letter from Euth Denton’s father which had been buried in the pocket of Emma’s coat for so many weeks. She smiled as she recalled the ludicrously penitent expression with which Emma had delivered the letter. There were the library steps on which Arline Thayer had sat and cried so disconsolately because she could not go home for Christmas. Once more she saw a strange procession winding its way across the campus headed by a walking, chattering scarecrow, Emma Dean again in her famous representation of “Never Too Late to Mend,” which had been one of the great features of the Famous Fiction dance.

Then she saw four girls, with their shining heads bared to the sun, strolling across the campus, talking earnestly of what the future held for them. And still again she saw them in caps and gowns marching toward the Gate of Commencement. It was only a little time since they had passed through that gateway, yet how long it seemed.

Suddenly her look of abstraction changed to one of startled interest. Running to the door she threw it open and listened intently. She heard Mrs. Elwood’s voice raised in pleased surprise, then, could she believe her earsf she heard another never-to-be-forgotten voice say, ‘‘I could see that there was some one awake and stirring. ’ ’

With a joyous cry of “ J. Elfreda, where, oh, where did you come fromU’ a lithe, blue-robed figure raced down the stairs and wrapped both arms tightly about a plump young woman, in a tailored coat suit, who returned the warm embrace mth interest.

‘‘Oh, Grace, I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you again ! ’ ’ exclaimed J. Elfreda Briggs fervently. “I never was so glad in all my life as when I found out you were here. The letter was forwarded to me at the beach. We’re at Wildwood for the summer. Maybe I didn’t pick up my things in a hurry. To use slang, which you know I can’t resist using occasionally, I hot-footed it for the station the minute Ma said I could come. ’ ’

‘ AVhich letter do you mean, Elfreda^^ asked Grace in a puzzled tone.

^‘VHiy the one from Mrs. Gray, of course,’^ returned Elfreda. “IsnT she here?’’

^‘Yes, but ” .

Grace! Elfreda!” called Mrs. Gray from the head of the stairs, ‘^come up here, children. ’ ’

‘‘Come on.” Grace seized Elfreda ’s heavy suit case and started up the stairs. Elfreda followed with alacrity.

“Now,” laughed Grace, as she stepped into Mrs. Gray’s room, “I demand an explanation.” She laid her hands lightly upon the old lady’s shoulders, smiling down at her, then bent and kissed her cheek.

“This is certainly a happy meeting,” declared Elfreda, as she embraced Mrs. Gray, who rose to greet her.

“I’m so glad you could come, my dear. I knew that Grace would miss her friends dreadfully when she came back here. Anne and Miriam are both away, and Nora and Jessica are too deep in the mysteries of hope chests and wedding finery to be dragged off on even the most delightful of midsummer pilgrimages. But my greatest reason for asking you to come was because I believed you were the very person Grace needed to make her happy here. You see it will take at least two weeks to set things to rights and she must have inspiring company. I hope everything has arrived safely. Suppose we hurry through with our breakfast and go over to Harlowe House at once. Mrs. Elwood tells me that she informed the caretaker yesterday of our coming. We shall be obliged to stop at his house for the key. ’ ’

‘‘Oh, Elfreda, I’m so sorry that you weren’t with us in New York,” was Grace’s regretful cry. “We stayed with the Southards, Mrs. Gray, Anne, Miriam and I. Anne, Miss Southard and Mr. Southard left New York City for California last week. Mr. Southard and Anne are to appear as joint stars in film productions of ‘As You Like It,’ ‘Hamlet,’ ‘King Lear’ and possibly other Shakespearian plays. It is their first experience in posing before the camera. Anne sent you her love. She vdll write you as soon as she is settled.”

“Dear little Anne,” smiled Elfreda, her eyes growing tender.

“I hope she’ll be back in time for the girls’ weddings. Nora and Jessica say positively that they won’t be married without her.” Grace looked anxious.

“Wlien are they to be married?”

‘‘The last of September. The date hasn’t been set.”

“Grace,” Elfreda fixed round solemn eyes on her friend, “do you feel very old this summer ? ’ ’

“Not the least little bit. I can’t realize that I’ve come back to Harlowe House to take charge of it. I feel as young as I felt when I first entered high school.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it, for, to save me, I can’t feel responsible and dignified. I’ve run and raced and swum and played golf like an Indian all summer, and honestly I feel ever so much younger than when I came to Overton four years ago. See how tanned I am*? I haven’t gained an ounce either. I weigh just one hundred and thirty-five pounds and no more,” concluded J. Elfreda in triumph.

“You are in splendid condition, Elfreda,” praised Mrs. Gray. Grace nodded emphatic approval.

“Yes, I’m strong enough to hustle furniture, beat rugs, scrub floors, or do anything else necessary to the beautif^dng and eternal improvement of Harlowe House.” Then she added slyly, “Lead me to it.”

“You’ll be led to it fast enough,” promised Grace. “Just wait until we have some breakfast.

At that moment Mrs. Elwood appeared in the open doorway. ‘'Shall I bring your breakfast upstairs this morning?’^ she asked. “I thought Mrs. Gray might like to have it in her room. ’ ’

“Thank you, but I’d rather go downstairs this morning,” nodded the energetic old lady. “May we breakfast a la negligee?”

“Yes, come dovui just as you are. There is no one here besides myself and the maid.”

‘ ‘ Miss Briggs have you had your breakfast ? J ane is making waffles. I thought you ”

“Waffles!” exclaimed Elfreda, rolling her eyes in ecstacy. “If I’d had fifty breakfasts I couldn’t resist waffles. Thank goodness Vinton’s wasn’t open.”

“Aren’t waffles supposed to be fattening?” inquired Grace judiciously.

“Don’t ask me,” was Elfreda ’s fervent protest. “I’ve set my mind on eating them, even though I have to walk to Hunter’s Rock and back in the glare of the noonday sun to counteract their deadly effects.”

It was a merry trio that gathered around the table which Mrs. Elwood had set on the roomy, \ine-covered back porch, and it was fully an hour after they sat down to breakfast before they rose to go upstairs and make r^ady for their visit to Harlowe House.

‘‘There is no use in trying to begin our real Avork to-day/’ declared Grace, as the three left Mrs. Elwood’s and strolled slowly along College Street in the direction of the caretaker’s house. Mr. Symes, who had faithfully executed so many commissions for Grace, had been selected as the best possible person to look after the house. “Mr. Symes was to see that everything was unpacked before we arrived. We shall have to employ two men to move the heavy furniture. Thank goodness and Mrs. Gray, there are no carpets to be laid. The floors are all hard wood and there are rugs for every room except the kitchen and laundry. ’ ’

“I brought an old dress along,” Elfreda informed her friends. “I helped Ma set our cottage to rights this summer and I know something about work. We had two maids and a scrubwoman. The maids were in my way, so I sent them off for a holiday and the scrubwoman and I tackled the job and went through with it like wildfire. Ma nearly had a spasm, but she liked the looks of things when we had finished. You should have seen me, though. Ma didn’t like my looks. I guess I did resemble a human mop if you know what that looks like.”

“I can imagine,” laughed Grace. “If you attack the business of putting Harlowe House

22 GKACE HARLOWE’S RETURN to rights with the same energy, I shall know exactly how yon looked when yon cleaned the cottage.”

“Perhaps yon will,” Elfreda grinned boyishly. “I hadnT thonght of that.”

“Yon conldnT see that far ahead, conld yon I” qnizzed Grace with twinkling eyes.

“No I conldn’t,” declared Elfreda earnestly, then, catching sight of Grace’s dancing eyes, she langhed good-natnredly. “Yon will tease me about that. I can see that yon ’ll never ontgrow the habit.”

“I can see that Elfreda is going to lighten onr labors and make onr tasks merry,” smiled Mrs. Gray. “What a joy and a diversion yon mnst have been to Miriam.”

“I was anything bnt an nnqnalified sonrce of pleasnre dnring my freshman year,” replied Elfreda. “It is plain to be seen that Grace never told yon my early Overton history.”

“Now, Elfreda ” began Grace, bnt El-

freda was not to be thns easily deterred from saying her say. She launched forth with a Indicrons account of her freshman shortcomings that left Mrs. Gray and Grace breathless with laughter.

“Elfreda, it is hard to say which is fnnnier, yon or Hippy,” Mrs. Gray’s eyes twinkled with enjoyment.

‘‘Well, isn’t it so!” demanded J. Elfreda. ‘ ‘ Isn ’t that exactly the way I nsed to do ? ”

“It’s Avhat I call a highly exaggerated account of your self-named misdeeds,” returned Grace. “You haven’t said a word about all the nice things you did for the girls.”

“I don’t remember them,” evaded Elfreda hastily. “Oh, there’s Mr. Symes now! How are you, Mr. Symes? You didn’t expect to see me here, did you?”

“Well, well, if it ain’t Miss Briggs,” beamed the old man joyfully. His remembrance of J. Elfreda was decidedly pleasant. She had always paid him generously for the numerous errands he had run for her. He greeted Grace with equal enthusiasm, and bobbed like a nodding mandarin before Mrs. Gray.

“I hope you have been well, Mr. Symes. How is your wife and how do you like being caretaker of Harlowe House?” asked Grace.

“I’m well, miss, and so’s my wife. It’s a fine place, miss, that Harlowe House, an’ it’ll be finer still when fall comes and it’s full of Overton students. We’re pretty proud of our young ladies, we Overton folks. Excuse me, miss, I’ll go over to my house and get the key. I’ll be right along.

“He has a whole lot of real college spirit,”

commented Elfreda, ‘‘or he couldn’t speak so beautifully of the Overton girls.”

“He always was a perfect old dear,” agreed Grace warmly.

The caretaker soon overtook them with the key, and the little company crossed the street and traversed the deserted campus.

“How strangely still everything is,” commented Grace. “Not in the least like it was six months ago, is it, Elfreda?”

“It gives me the blues,” averred Elfreda in a low tone.

“Here we are,” called Mrs. Gray, with a cheery attempt at dispelling the tiny cloud of dejection that had fallen over the two girls. “Harlowe House couldn’t have a prettier site.”

The three women followed Mr. Symes up the steps, then, as if by common consent, turned and looked out over the green expanse of closely-clipped lawn, sprinkled with sentinellike old trees. They had stood guard year after year and silently watched the comings and goings of the hundreds of girls who proudly acknowledged Overton as their Alma Mater.

“Wliat’s the use of gazing and mooning?” asked Elfreda, with sudden brusqueness. “Please open that door, Mr. Symes. I shall certainly weep and wail disconsolately out of pure sentiment if yon don’t distract my attention wdth something else. Show me the furniture, or the boxes it came in, or anything else that won’t call forth tender reminiscences.”

Grace’s laugh sounded a trifle shaky, but it was a laugh nevertheless. Something in Elfreda’s brusque tones acted as an antidote to her retrospection. She had been more or less ghost-ridden ever since her return to Overton. She now resolved to shake off that pleasantlymelancholy sensation and ^^be up and doing with a heart for any fate.”

The caretaker admitted them to a hall crowded with huge packing boxes. In fact, the whole of the first floor was occupied by the large shipments of furniture recently delivered into the care of Mr. Symes.

‘‘It’s worse than the cottage,” announced Elfreda; “a regular howling wilderness. I’d like to know how we can possibly guess what’s what and why. These boxes all look alike. If we have our minds set upon seeing the parlor suite, we’ll be sure to xmpack the kitchen furniture instead.”

“We’ll let the men wrestle with the unpacking, girls,” decided Mrs. Gray. “I don’t wish my body guard to nurse wholesale bruises and smashed fingers. Mr. Symes, can you have two

26 GKACE HAELOWE’S EETUEN men besides yourself here this afternoon to unpack these things

‘‘I certainly can, Mrs. Gray,’’ promised Mr. Symes with respectful promptness.

^ ‘ Then we ’ll have to possess our souls in patience until to-morrow,” sighed Grace. ‘‘Isn’t this a lovely, roomy house, Elfreda? I’m so glad, too, that there isn’t a prim, stiff parlor. I like this immense living-room much better. The girls will surely like it. It will serve as a library too. That little room just otf the hall will make such a convenient office for me. Imagine me as the head of a college house, with an office all my own, Elfreda.”

“It’s a good thing for the house,” commented Elfreda. “I hope the girls that live here will appreciate you, Grace. I hope none of them will be as silly as J. Elfreda Briggs was. ’ ’

“Elfreda, how can you?” remonstrated Grace.

“How could I, you mean,” flung back Elfreda. “Because I was a spoiled, selfish ingrate who never stopped to think of any one else’s rights.”

“Now, now, Elfreda,” protested Mrs. Gray.

“Well, I was,” insisted Elfreda positively. “It took a whole year to reduce me to order. I wasn’t as hopeless as some of the others. It took three years to make Alberta Wicks and

Mary Hampton real Overton girls, and two years to instil college spirit into Kathleen West. But Grace never gave any of us up, even though we treated her so shabbily. That’s wh}^ I just said I hoped that the girls would appreciate Grace. I’d hate to think that some stupid ill-natured freshman, it’s more likely to be a freshman than any one else, would behave like an idiot and spoil her first year at Harlowe House.” There was an expression of anxious concern on Elfreda’s round face.

‘‘Don’t worry, Elfreda,” reassured Grace, “the students who come to Harlowe House to live are sure to be nice. Girls who have their ovm way to pay through college are usually cheerful and unselfish. They are anxious to live and willing to let live.”

“I don’t know about that. Kathleen West wasn’t a glaring pattern of amiability when she entered Overton,” reminded Elfreda. “Of course she’s now a brilliant example of what forbearance will accomplish, and you know that I am very fond of her, but you and I remember what we went through during the forbearing process.”

“Don’t croak, J. Elfreda Briggs,” admonished Grace lightly, “I don’t imagine that everything will be plain sailing this year. That would be asking too much. Still I hope I shall not have any serions misunderstandings with my girls. I’m going to remember my motto, ‘Blessed are they that have found their work,’ and not shirk anything that comes within the line of it.”

“I guess there isn’t the slightest danger of shirking on your part,” was Elfreda’s dry retort. “I hope the men that do the unpacking of this stuff will be imbued with the same spirit. You’d better bring out that motto and hang it up where they can see it. To change the subject, we haven’t been upstairs yet.”

“Come on, then.”

“I think I’ll wait for you on the veranda, children,” said Mrs. Gray. “Don’t stay upstairs too long. I should like to go back to Mrs. Elwood’s, telephone for a taxicab, and make a call upon Dr. Morton this morning. ’ ’

“We’ll hurry,” promised Grace, as they ascended the open staircase which led to the second floor. “These are to be my quarters,” she announced, opening a door at the end of the hall on the left side of the stairs. “This left wing was designed especially for me. The right wing has the same amount of space, but it is divided into two bedrooms. But the left has a sitting-room and bedroom, with a bathroom between the two. It seems selfish in me to have so much room, but Mrs. Gray insists that I need it and wishes me to be thoroughly comfortable. She wanted me to have Circassian walnut bedroom furniture, but I chose oak. I donT wish my rooms to suggest luxury. It wouldnT seem in touch with the spirit of my undertaking.’’

Elfreda regarded Grace with loving admiration. “You’re the squarest, fairest girl I ever knew or even expect to know, Grace,” was her tribute. “And you deserve the best that the Harlowe House girls can give you.”

Chapter III An Unexpected Caller

‘“4 ND if I do say it as shouldn’t,’ this room r\ is a credit to our college and our own sweet native land,” proclaimed Elfreda, as she viewed with critical eyes the long cheerful living-room, to which she and Grace had just put the final touches. The morning sunshine of a perfect midsummer day poured in at the windows flooding the scene with dazzling light, as though smiling its approval of the pretty room. The walls and ceilings were papered in cream color with a running border of green leaves. The floor rug was in two shades of green, and the window draperies were in green and white. The furniture was in mission oak, but there were several comfortable arm chairs and willow rockers scattered about the room. A long library table took up considerable space at one end of the room, and conveniently near it were rows of book shelves, lined with special books required by the Overton curriculum of study, which, in price, were out of reach of the more impecunious students, and were in such constant demand at the library that their temporary possession often meant weeks of waiting.

There was a piano, of course, but the crowning feature of the room, however, was the wide window seat built across the bow-window at its upper end. It was at least four feet wide, upholstered in thick green velvet and piled high with sofa pillows. It was indeed a cozy corner which invited rest, and Elfreda confidently predicted that it would be the most popular spot in the house.

The house itself had not followed the usual plan of modern architecture. In fact, it was distinctly old-fashioned and built for room rather than e:ffect. The hall ran the length of the house to the kitchen, dividing it into two parts. The dining-room was on the side opposite the living-room, and had also a bow-window. Directly behind it lay the servants ^ quarters. Adjoining the living-room was Grace’s little office and behind that was a room furnished with every convenience for the benefit of those girls who were obliged to launder their own clothing to save expense.