“Contemptible coward!” raged Grace.  “Did you hear what he said, Anne?”

“I should have cut his acquaintance on the spot.”

“There is something queer about all this,” mused Grace.  “This is the second conversation of the sort that has taken place between those two that I have overheard.  I wonder if he has persuaded Marian to put money into his real estate schemes, for I believe they are nothing but schemes.”

“But Marian has no money of her own,” protested Anne.  “Don’t you remember how delighted she was when she deposited the judge’s check and received her first check book?”

“I wonder—­”

Grace paused.  A sudden suspicion entered her mind, that she instantly dismissed.

“You don’t believe—­” began Anne, but Grace stopped her.

“No, dear,” she answered firmly.  “We mustn’t ever allow ourselves to entertain such a thought.  Marian may have foolishly risked money of her own that we know nothing of, but as for anything else—­Marian is still a member of our sorority and the honor of the Phi Sigma Tau is above reproach.”

CHAPTER XVII

ANNE BECOMES FAMOUS

That Anne Pierson was to play a six weeks’ engagement in New York under the management of the great Southard was a nine days’ matter of wonder in Oakdale.

In spite of the fact that Anne tried to keep the news within her immediate circle of friends, it spread like wildfire.

“You’ll just have to let me tell it, Anne,” laughed Nora O’Malley.  “I can’t keep it to myself.”

Rather to Anne’s surprise, there was little disapproval expressed in regard to her coming engagement.  Those who had seen her enact “Rosalind” in the High School production of “As You Like It,” fully described in “Grace Harlowe’s junior year at high school,” had been then convinced that her ability was little short of genius.  But the interest of the thing deepened when the story crept about that this engagement meant a college career for her, and Anne became the idol of the hour.

“The whole town has gone mad over Anne,” replied Jessica.  “I expect to see a howling populace at the station when she leaves for New York to-morrow.”

The three chums were seated upon the single bed in Anne’s little room at the Pierson cottage, while Anne sat on the floor before an open trunk, busily engaged in packing.

“What shall we do without you!” lamented Grace.  “Positively I have sorrowfully accompanied departing friends to the station so many times since school began that it’s becoming second nature to me.”

“Good-bye, forever; good-bye, forever,” hummed Nora.

“Stop it instantly, Nora,” commanded Grace.  “Don’t harrow my feelings until the time comes.”

“Anne, you must write to us often,” stipulated Jessica.

“Of course I shall,” replied Anne.  “Remember you are all coming down to see me, the very first Saturday that you can.  I do hope the boys can make arrangements to be there at the same time.”