“Perhaps they are,” sighed Grace.  “I hope I’m not growing pessimistic, but I can’t help feeling that the girls in our own class are not as friendly as the upper class girls have been.  I supposed it would be just the opposite.”

Miriam was on the point of saying that she wished she had been wise enough to refuse to room with Elfreda.  Then she bit her lip and remained silent.

“I’m glad I’ve kept up in all my work,” Grace said after they had walked some distance in silence.  “Mother will be glad and so will Father.  I’ve done my level best not to disappoint them, at least.”  She sighed, then said abruptly, “Have you bought all your presents yet?”

“I bought some of them in New York.  I shopped as long as my money held out.  Almost all the things were for the girls here.  I’ll have to buy my home presents in Oakdale.”

“That is just about my case,” remarked Grace.  “I sent Eleanor’s almost two weeks ago, and Mabel Allison’s last week.  And I gave Miss Southard hers and her brother’s with strict injunctions not to open them until Christmas.”

“So did I,” laughed Miriam.  “I forgot to mention it to you at the time.  I hope I haven’t left out any one.  I shall have to ask Mother for more money, too.”

The few intervening days before Christmas seemed all too short to the students who were going home for their Christmas vacations.  Interest in study declined rapidly.  Those girls who usually made brilliant recitations distinguished themselves by just scraping through, while those who were inclined to totter on the ragged edge unhesitatingly confessed themselves to be unprepared.  One had, of course, to decide just what to pack, whether to take the morning or evening train and whether it would be worth while to take one’s books home on the chance of studying a little during vacation.  These were weighty problems to solve satisfactorily, and coupled with the constant, “Have I forgotten any one’s present?” were sufficient to drive all idea of study to the winds.

In spite of the mischief Elfreda had endeavored to make, Grace found that she had calls enough to pay to fill in every unoccupied moment before going home.

Late in the afternoon of the day before leaving Overton, she started out alone to pay two calls, going first to Morton House to say good-bye to Gertrude Wells and Arline Thayer.  Gertrude was in and welcomed her with enthusiasm, but, to her disappointment, Arline was out.  She spent a pleasant half hour with 19——­’s president, then, looking out at the rapidly gathering twilight, said with a start:  “I didn’t know it was so late.  I must go down to Ruth Denton’s before dinner.”

“Perhaps you’ll meet Arline there,” suggested Gertrude.  “She was going there, too.  She and Ruth are great friends.  She was greatly disappointed to learn that Ruth has been invited somewhere else for Christmas.  She had set her heart on taking her home with her.  Considering the fact that Arline’s father has so much money, she is an awfully nice little girl.  She isn’t in the least snobbish or overbearing.”