“Yes,” replied Grace absently.  Then the full force of Miriam’s words dawning on her she looked at her friend in a startled way.  “I know who sent Ruth those presents.  It was Elfreda herself.  I’m sure of it.  She knew Ruth to be too proud to accept clothes, so she sent them anonymously.  Now I know why those ‘a’s’ and ‘s’s’ looked so familiar.  That’s Elfreda’s writing.  I know she did it.  She just had to be nice in spite of herself,” concluded Grace.

“But why do you think it was Elfreda?” persisted Miriam.

“It was what you said that put me on the right track,” replied Grace.  “I believe she made up her mind that day to send Ruth the suit and hat.”

“If she did send them, there is still hope that she will come back to us,” said Anne.

It was agreed among the three girls that not even Ruth should be told of their suspicions, and that if any possible opportunity arose to conciliate Elfreda it should be promptly seized.

During the short space of time that elapsed before the dreaded examination week swooped down upon them, the three friends were too busy preparing for the coming ordeal to give much thought to the discovery they had made.  Elfreda avoided them so persistently that there seemed small chance of getting within speaking distance.  It was a week of painful suspense, broken only by brief outbursts of jubilation when some particularly formidable examination, that everyone had worried over, seemingly to the point of gray hairs, turned out better than had been expected.

In the campus houses wholesale permission to burn midnight oil had been granted.  Lights shone until late hours and flushed faces bent earnestly over text books as though trying to absorb their contents verbatim.  On Friday, the strain, that had been lessening imperceptibly with each succeeding examination, snapped, and Overton began to think about many things that had no bearing on examinations.

“I’m almost dead!” exclaimed Grace, coming into her room on Friday afternoon and dropping into the Morris chair near the window.

“I’m tired, too,” returned Anne, who had come in just ahead of her, and was engaged in putting her freshly laundered clothing in the two drawers of the chiffonier that belonged to her.

“Thank goodness, we have four whole days of rest between terms at any rate,” sighed Grace.  “I’m going to skate and be out of doors as much as I can.  I must make a few calls, too.  I’m going to give a dinner at Vinton’s, too.  I’ll invite Mabel, Frances, Gertrude Wells, Arline Thayer, Ruth, of course.  That makes five,” counted Grace on her fingers.  “Oh, yes, Constance Fuller, six, you two girls, and myself.  That makes nine.  I told Mother about it when I was at home and she gave me the money for it.  I’ll have it Tuesday night.  The new term begins Wednesday.  To-morrow I’ll go calling and deliver my invitations in the morning.  There’s a trial basketball game to-morrow afternoon.”