“I’m so glad,” returned Grace warmly.  “We know nearly all the freshmen, but we know only a few sophomores.  We were lamenting to-night because we expected to be wall flowers.”

“Not if Frances and I can help it,” promised Mabel.  “Girls, I want you to meet Miss Graham and Miss Allen, both worthy juniors.  You already know Constance.”

The “worthy juniors” nodded smilingly as Mabel presented Grace and her friends.

“Get your capes and scarfs,” directed Mabel briskly.  “We must be on our way.  I’m sure it’s going to be a red-letter affair.  The sophomores have nearly worked their dear heads off to impress the baby class.  Do you girls all dance, and how many of you can lead?”

“Miriam and I,” answered Grace.  “Anne is not tall enough.  Elfreda and Ruth will have to answer for themselves.”

Ruth Denton confessed to being barely able to dance.  Elfreda, who looked really handsome in her blue evening gown, answered in the affirmative.  Grace noted with secret satisfaction that the stout girl was keeping strictly in the background and making no effort to push herself forward.  “If she only behaves like that all evening the girls will be sure to like her, and if anything comes up later about this registrar business there won’t be such fuss made over it,” Grace reflected.

“Come on, Grace!” Frances Marlton’s merry tones broke in on Grace’s reflections.  “I’m going to be your faithful cavalier.  I’ll offer you my arm as soon as we get downstairs.  We never could walk two abreast in state down these stairs.”

Grace followed Frances’s lead, smiling happily.  Julia Graham, a rather stout, pleasant-faced young woman in pink messaline, bowed to Miriam.  Anne found herself accepting the arm of Edith Allen, while Constance Fuller took charge of Ruth Denton.  The crowning honor fell to J. Elfreda, for Mabel Ashe walked up to her, slipped her arm in that of the astonished girl, saying impressively, “May I have the pleasure, Miss Briggs?”

The little party fairly bubbled over with high spirits as they set out for the gymnasium in couples, but to Elfreda the world was gayest rose color.  To be escorted to the reception by the most popular girl in college was an honor of which she had never dreamed.  Only a few days before she had resigned all hope of even going, but through the magic of Grace Harlowe she was among the elect.  For almost the first time in her self-centered young life, she was swept by a wholly generous impulse to do the best that lay within her in college if only for Grace’s sake.  While she listened to Mabel’s gay sallies, answering them almost shyly, her mind was on the debt of gratitude she owed Grace, who, without mentioning her visit to Alberta Wicks, had assured her that she had made inquiry and found that the letter was not the work of the sophomore class as a body.  Grace had refused to voice even a suspicion regarding the writer’s identity, but had so strongly advised Elfreda to pay no attention to the cowardly warning, but attend the reception as though nothing had happened, that the stout girl had taken her advice.