"What a dear you are, Emma," declared Grace, as she handed her wraps to Emma and began to unhook her skirt. "How I wish you had been with us. The girls were so sorry you couldn't come. Elfreda says she is going to descend upon you some Friday and carry you off for a week end, regardless of howls and protests."
Emma's expressive face lighted with whimsical tenderness. "J. Elfreda never forgets, does she? Here's your cocoa, Grace. Help yourself to sandwiches."
Seating themselves opposite each other at the oak center table, the plate of sandwiches and the chocolate pot between them, the two young women settled themselves for a talk which lasted until after midnight.
"We are setting a fearful example for our girls," remarked Grace yawning, as they finally arose to prepare for bed. "I hope we haven't disturbed Miss Ward. I haven't heard a sound from her room. She must be asleep. I wonder when she came back."
"Came back from where?" asked Emma.
"From New York City. She took the same train that I took and sat with me all the way there."
"She did!" exclaimed Emma. "That doesn't tally with what I heard in the registrar's office Friday afternoon. I'm afraid she didn't ask permission to go, Grace."
"Oh, she must have had permission!" A look of surprise, mingled with consternation, sprang into Grace's eyes.
"Did she tell you she had the joyful sanction of the registrar?" quizzed Emma.
"No—o. She made a half apology for not telling me that she was going to New York. She said she was not sure of going until the last minute. I supposed, of course, that she had permission. Why will she persist in disobeying the rules of the college?" asked Grace despairingly. "What was said in the registrar's office, Emma, or aren't you at liberty to tell me?"