At the first mention of her name Anne had darted from her seat behind the lemonade bowl, and rushed to the nearest shelter, which was the conservatory.
Grace found her, at last, in the conservatory crouched behind a palm.
"Come here, you foolish child!" exclaimed Grace. "You are wanted at once. Why did you run and hide? Mrs. Gray—the great Mrs. Gray—wishes to meet you. Think of that!"
Anne clasped the girl's strong hand with her two small ones.
"Oh, Grace," she whispered, "won't you excuse me? I—I——"
"You what? Silly, come right along!"
Grace fairly dragged the trembling little figure into the drawing room, where a silence had fallen over the group of young girls who watched the scene.
"Tut, tut, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray gently. "You mustn't be afraid of me. I'm the most harmless old woman in the world."
Then she tried to get a glimpse of Anne's downcast, crimson face.
"I wanted particularly to meet you, child," went on Mrs. Gray, "because I hear you are a formidable rival of the best pupil in the freshman class. That is a great boast for your friends to make for you, my dear. Miriam Nesbit is a famously smart girl, I'm told. But I wanted to meet you, too, because you bear the name I love best in the world."