“I think we ought to go, just to show those girls that we are impervious to their petty insults,” declared Grace.  “We have as much right there as any one else, and I am sure the boys we know will dance with us whether the rest of the girls like it or not.  Besides, Mrs. Gray will be there, and she will expect to see us.  She doesn’t know anything about this trouble, and I don’t want her to know.  It would only grieve her.  She is so fond of Anne.  By all means we must go to the ball.  Wear your prettiest gowns and act as though nothing had happened.”

That night, the four young girls, in their party finery, sat waiting in the Harlowe’s drawing room for their escorts—­David, Hippy and Reddy.  Anne wore the pink crepe de chine which had done duty at Mrs. Gray’s house party the previous winter.  Grace wore an exquisite gown of pale blue silk made in a simple, girlish fashion that set her off to perfection.  Nora was gowned in lavender and wore a corsage bouquet of violets that had mysteriously arrived that afternoon, and that everyone present suspected Hippy of sending.  Jessica’s gown was of white organdie, trimmed with tiny butterfly medallions and valenciennes lace.

In spite of the possibility that she and Anne might be the subject of unpleasant comment, Grace made up her mind to enjoy herself.  She was fond of dancing, and knew that she would have plenty of invitations to do so.  David would look after Anne, who was not yet proficient enough in dancing to venture to try it in public.

“If only Miriam and Julia Crosby behave themselves!” she thought, “for, of course, Julia will be there.  Miriam will see that she gets an invitation.”

Grace thrilled with pride as she entered the gymnasium.  How beautifully it had been decorated and how well everything looked.  She was so sorry that the girls had seen fit to leave her out of it all.  Then she remembered her resolution to forget all differences and just have a good time.

Miriam, gowned in apricot messaline trimmed with silver, was in the receiving line with half a dozen other sophomores.  Grace and her party would be obliged to exchange civilities with the enemy.  She wondered what Miriam would do.  David solved this problem for her by taking charge of the situation.  Walking straight up to Miriam, he said a few words to her in a low tone.  She flushed slightly, looked a trifle defiant then greeted the girls coldly, but with civility.  The other sophomores followed her example, but Grace breathed a sigh of relief as they walked over to where Mrs. Gray, in a wonderful black satin gown, sat among the patronesses.

“My dear children, I am so glad to see all of you!” exclaimed the sprightly old lady.  “How fine all my girls look.  You are like a bouquet of flowers.  Grace is a bluebell, Anne is a dear little clove pink, Nora is a whole bunch of violets and Jessica looks like a white narcissus.”

“Where do we come in?” asked David, smiling at Mrs. Gray’s pretty comparison.