“At least she didn’t attend it,” commented Emma, “but, come to think of it, neither did Althea Parker. Don’t you remember, I mentioned to you that I met Evelyn on the campus that fateful Saturday and she said she was going to spend the afternoon with Miss Parker?”

“Then if Miss Parker was ringleader in the affair, why didn’t she have the courage to attend the sale?” was Grace’s quick question.

“For further information inquire of Miss Brent,” advised Emma, shrugging her shoulders.

“I will,” sighed Grace. “I seem fated to puzzle over hard questions, don’t I?”

It was half-past four o’clock when Jean Brent entered the office where Grace sat idly turning the leaves of a magazine.

“Sit down, Miss Brent,” invited Grace. Then in her usual direct fashion, “I am ready to listen to anything you wish to say.”

Jean Brent flushed, then the color receded from her fair skin, leaving her very pale. In a low tone she began a recital that caused Grace Harlowe’s eyes to become riveted on her in intense surprise, mingled with consternation. An expression of lively sympathy sprang into her face, however, as the story proceeded, and when Jean had finished with a half sob, Grace stretched out her hands impulsively with, “You poor little girl.”

Jean clasped the outstretched hands and murmured, “You don’t blame me so much, then, do you, Miss Harlowe?”

“No, I can’t,” Grace made honest answer, “but I am so sorry that you did not come to me with this in the beginning. I could have helped you arrange your affairs nicely. You could have borrowed money from the Semper Fidelis Fund and later, if you were desirous of selling your wardrobe you could have disposed of it in New York City for fully as much as you have received for it here. A dear friend of mine in New York who is an actress has often told me that the women of the various theatrical companies who play minor parts are only too glad to purchase attractive wearing apparel which society women sell after one wearing.”

“I didn’t know. I am sorry I didn’t tell you long ago.” Jean was thoroughly penitent. “Will it make so very much difference now?”