Grace hurried through her dressing, and looking very sweet and wholesome in her dainty blue organdie, knocked at the door of the room occupied by Marian and Eva Allen.

“Come in,” cried Eva’s voice, and Grace entered, to find Eva completely dressed in a pretty white pongee, eyeing with great disfavor the tight-fitting princess gown of black silk that the maid was struggling to hook Marian into.

“Marian!” exclaimed Grace.  “What ever made you have a black evening gown?  It makes you look years older than you are.”

“That’s exactly what I told her,” said Eva Allen, “but she won’t believe it.”

Marian looked sulky, then said rather sullenly:  “I really can’t see what difference it makes to you girls what I wear.  I haven’t interfered with you in the matter of your gowns, have I?”

“No,” replied Grace truthfully, “but Marian, I think the judge likes to see us in the simple evening dresses we have been accustomed to wearing, and as we are his guests we ought to try and please him.  Besides, you would look so much better in your white embroidered dress, or your pink silk, that you wore to commencement last year.”

“I don’t agree with, you at all,” replied Marian so stiffly that the maid smiled openly, as she put the final touches to Marian’s hair preparatory to adjusting the cluster of puffs that had completed her astonishing coiffure the night before.  “Furthermore, I have been assured by persons of extreme good taste that my new gowns give me a distinct individuality I have never before possessed.”

“That person of extreme good taste is named Hammond,” thought Grace.  “That remark about ‘individuality’ sounds just like him.  I’ll make one more appeal to her.”

Going over to where Marian stood viewing herself with satisfaction in the long mirror, Grace slipped her arm around her old friend.

“Listen, dear,” she coaxed, “we mustn’t quarrel on Christmas Eve.  You know we are all Phi Sigma Taus and it seems so strange to see you looking so stately and grown up.  Put on your white dress to-night, just to please me.”

But Marian drew away from her, frowning angrily.  “Really, Grace,” she exclaimed, “you are too provoking for any use, and I wish you would mind your own business and let me wear what I choose.”

“Please pardon me, Marian,” said Grace, turning toward the door.  “I am sorry to have troubled you,” and was gone like a flash.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Marian Barber!” burst forth Eva.  “The idea of telling Grace to mind her own business!  You haven’t been a bit like yourself lately, and I know that it’s all on account of that Henry Hammond, the old snake.”

“You will oblige me greatly, Eva, by referring more respectfully to my friend, Mr. Hammond,” said Marian with offended dignity.  Then she sailed out of the room, her train dragging half a yard behind her, while Eva turned to the mirror with a contemptuous sniff and powdered her little freckled nose almost savagely before following her irate roommate down stairs.