“Are you going?” she called down anxiously.  “Yes,” nodded Grace.  “At three o’clock Wednesday afternoon.”

Elfreda gave a smothered exclamation that sounded like, “What a shame,” and disappeared into her room, slamming the door.

“I’m coming into your room for a while,” said Miriam.  “Elfreda will open the door before long.”

“Yes, do,” returned Grace hospitably.  “Is she angry because you are going away over Thanksgiving?”

“No, not angry, but awfully disappointed.  She almost cried last night when I told her about it.  I suspect she is crying now.  She’s like an overgrown child at times.”

“I’m sorry we can’t take her with us,” deplored Grace.  “Does she know where we are going?”

“Yes,” returned Miriam.  “She was practically thunderstruck when she learned we were to visit the Southards.  The queer part of it is this.  She saw Mr. Southard and Anne in ‘As You Like It’ last year.  She thinks Mr. Southard the greatest actor she ever saw, and she even spoke of Anne’s cleverness as Rosalind; she doesn’t know it was Anne who played the part.”

“Anne doesn’t wish her or any one else here to know it,” cautioned Grace.  “Do you suppose any other girl here saw Anne as Rosalind?”

“Goodness knows,” replied Miriam, with a shrug.  “There’s an old saying that ‘murder will out.’  If any one here did see her, sooner or later she’ll be identified and lionized.”

“That’s just why I don’t wish the girls here to know,” protested Anne, who had been listening to the conversation of her friends, a slight frown puckering her smooth forehead.  “I don’t care to be patronized and petted, but secretly held at arms’ length because I am a professional player.  If the girls find out that I played Rosalind in Mr. Southard’s company I’ll never hear the last of it.”  In her anxiety Anne’s voice rose above its customary low key.  In fact, all three had been talking rather loudly, and the entire conversation had been carried straight to the ears of the girl who stood outside the almost closed door.  Elfreda had come across the hall to hear the details of the proposed visit, but had remained outside the door transfixed at what she heard.  Then she found her voice.

“So that’s your idea of true friendship, is it?” demanded an angry, choking voice that caused the surprised young women to start and look toward the door.  Elfreda stepped into the room, her face flushed with anger, her blue eyes fairly snapping.  “You make a great fuss over me when there’s nothing going on, but none of you would invite me to go with you to New York, when you know I’m crazy to go.  And that’s not enough, you can’t get along without talking about me.  I heard every word Anne said.  I know now that it was she who played Rosalind in ’As You Like It’ last winter, because I saw her with my own eyes.  If you girls had been as honorable as you pretend to be you’d have told me about it and I never would have said a word.  But, no,