“Where are they?” asked Grace, with compressed lips.

“At—­’Heartsease,’” said Eleanor, and burst into tears.

“Oh, what a mess,” groaned Grace.  “It will take an hour to go there and back.  Oh, I must act quickly.  Let me think.  Mrs. Gray’s coachman would drive me out, but those horses are so slow.  Eleanor,” she exclaimed, turning to the weeping girl, “is your runabout outside?”

“Yes,” sobbed Eleanor.

“Then that settles it,” cried Grace.  “I will go after the things.  Tell me where to find them.  Have you a latch key?  I can’t bother to ring after I get there.”

“I’ll go and get my key,” said Eleanor, wiping her eyes.  “They’re in the wardrobe in my bedroom.”

“All right, wait for me at the door and don’t say a word.  Here come some of the girls.”

Though the time had seemed hours to Grace, her interview with Eleanor had lasted barely five minutes.  She hurried back to where Miss Tebbs and the three chums awaited her, followed by the curious eyes of a number of the cast, who wondered vaguely why Grace Harlowe was rushing around at such a rate.

“Borrow a gown for Anne, Miss Tebbs, for the first act,” she cried.  “I’ll have the missing costumes here in time for the second.  Only I can’t play Orlando.  Miriam will have to play it; she’s my understudy, you know.  Ethel Dumont can play Miriam’s part.  They’ve rehearsed both parts, and will be all right.  Please don’t refuse me, Miss Tebbs, but let me go.  It’s for Anne’s sake.  Nora, please bring me my street clothes.”

As she spoke, Grace began rapidly divesting herself of her costume.

“Very well, Grace, have your own way,” replied the teacher reluctantly.  “I’ll go at once and get a gown for Anne.  But don’t dare to fail me.”

“Thank you, Miss Tebbs.  I’ll not fail.”  Slipping into her long coat and seizing her fur hat, Grace made for the street, stopping for an instant to take the key from Eleanor, who stood waiting at the door.

“Can you manage the machine?” faltered Eleanor.

“Yes,” said Grace curtly.  “Go in at once.  If you are seen, the girls are apt to ask questions that you may find hard to answer truthfully.”

“Thank goodness, David and Tom taught me something about automobiles last summer,” thought Grace as she prepared to start, “or I should have been powerless to help Anne to-night.  I am going to exceed the speed limit, that’s certain.”  A moment later she was well into the street and on her way to “Heartsease.”  It was a memorable ride to Grace.  It seemed as though the runabout fairly flew over the ground.

“I’ve only been ten minutes on the way,” she breathed as she neared her destination.  Leaving the runabout outside the grounds, she ran up the drive, and, inserting her key in the door, opened it softly and entered the wide, old-fashioned hall.  Up the steps she hurried, meeting no one, for Miss Nevin was at Assembly Hall and the servants’ quarters were at the back of the house.  Knowing the house as she did, Grace went straight to Eleanor’s room and to the wardrobe.  Sure enough, Anne’s missing costumes were lying in a neat heap on the floor.  Assuring herself that everything was there, Grace piled them up in her arms and sped softly down the stairs, opened the door, and in a twinkling was down the drive and into the runabout.