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Updated: July 26, 2025
Though the Sempers had arrived only that morning they had entered heart and soul soul into Elfreda's plan for a dinner on the lawn that evening, with the added treat of communing with a real fortune-teller afterward.
Think over your past misdeeds and see if you can discover any reason for a summons." Grace shook her head. "No," she said slowly. "I can't think of a single, solitary thing." "Then don't worry about it," was Elfreda's comforting advice. "Whatever it is, you are ready for it." As Grace entered the dean's office that morning a vague feeling of apprehension rose within her.
They were carrying on a low-toned conversation among themselves, and by the frequent glances that were being cast first in the direction of Grace, then Elfreda, Anne knew that the story of Elfreda's report to the registrar was being talked over. Anne felt her anger rising.
The party were to make the trip to "Picnic Hollow," as Arline had named their destination, in Elfreda's and Arline's automobiles. During the past year the latter had become greatly interested in automobiles, and drove her own high-powered car with the sureness of an expert. "What is the pleasure of this organisation?" called Emma.
"I'll see you later, girls," was her only remark as she passed inside. Once outside Elfreda's door, Grace did not feel quite so confident. Summoning all her courage, however, she knocked. An impatient voice called, "Come in," and Grace accepted the rather ungracious invitation to enter. J. Elfreda sat facing the window intent upon the letter Grace had seen in her hand.
Grace stooped over and, thrusting a hand into the bushes, brought forth an object which she held up for Elfreda's inspection. "Do you recognize it, J. Elfreda?" "Hippy's hat!" gasped Miss Briggs. "Yes. Let us examine it. Look at this! Am I right?" demanded Grace triumphantly. "Hippy was whacked over the head with the butt of a revolver, and the blow cut right through the felt.
I sorted them into two piles. Elfreda's was the highest." "Thank you, dear." Blowing a gay little kiss to her mother, Grace made for the living-room, with Elfreda close behind her. "I ought to receive a few dozen letters," commented Elfreda. "Nearly every one of my correspondents have been lagging and languishing."
Do I get the job?" "You do," laughed Grace, but the laugh ended in a sob against Elfreda's shoulder. It had been a trying day for poor Loyalheart and the inevitable reaction had set in. "You understand don't you?" she murmured brokenly. "Yes; I know how brave you've been to-day." Elfreda's soothing tones were a trifle unsteady, as she added in tender whimsicality, "I could see."
Grace was on the verge of saying that J. Elfreda would have shown more wisdom by keeping silent, but suddenly checked herself. She had no right to criticize J. Elfreda's motives. To her the bare idea of telling tales was abhorrent, while this girl gloried in the fact that she had exposed those who annoyed her. "I'm sorry you told the registrar," she said slowly.
To the three who watched him almost out of sight, the determined set of his broad shoulders in itself seemed to presage the success of his mission. "It was certainly nice in Jean to say what he did to me about my being your friend," was Elfreda's abrupt comment when, after saying good-bye to Mrs. Gray, the two young women started down Chapel Hill toward home.
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