“I’m not pensive. I’m puzzled, and a little worried,” returned Grace. “Our latest arrival is a most complex study.”
“I suspected it,” was Emma’s cheerful rejoinder. “One of the ‘There was the Door to which I found no Key’ variety, so to speak.”
“I’m going to tell you all about it,” decided Grace, “for I need your advice.” She related her interview with Jean Brent.
“Miss Lipton, the head of the Lipton Preparatory School, at Grafton, writes beautifully of Miss Brent,” went on Grace. “I know the faculty would consider her word sufficient to enroll this girl, but I feel that I ought to be doubly careful to keep my household irreproachable. I don’t like mysteries when it comes to admitting a new girl to the fold. Still, Miss Brent impresses me as being honest and sincere. Besides, I’ve promised to help her.”
“Don’t worry, Gracious,” advised Emma, “you may be harboring a princess unawares. The Riddle may turn out to be the Shahess of Persia, or the Grand Vizieress of Bagdad or some other royal person. She may be the moving feature of a real Graustark plot.”
“Stop being ridiculous, Emma, and tell me what I ought to do.” Grace’s smooth forehead puckered in a frown which her laughing lips denied.
Emma was instantly serious. “We do not know just how much college may mean to her,” was her quick response. “If she chooses to shroud herself in mystery, I believe it is because of something which concerns herself alone.”
There was a brief silence, then Grace said: “You are right. To be an Overton girl may mean more to Jean Brent than we can possibly know. I’m going to take her on faith. Perhaps she’ll find college the key that will unlock the door to perfect understanding.”